


Steeplechase

by NinthFeather



Series: Riddle in Reverse [2]
Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Humor, Case Fic, Dysfunctional Family, Friendship, Gen, Geniuses, Gosho Boys, Headcanon, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Mystery, Side Characters Will Be Added As They Appear, Supernatural Elements, Team Up, Teenage Dorks, The doves are relevant, plus Eisuke, specific warnings in each chapter's end notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 07:52:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 47
Words: 164,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6602803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinthFeather/pseuds/NinthFeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hakuba had secrets.  Chikage wanted answers.  The fallout leaves Kaito in need of help...the kind he can only get from critics.  Wasn't Hakuba supposed to be the one doing the chasing?</p><p>Updates every other Tuesday.</p><p>(Sequel to Riddle in Reverse; please read that first!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for waiting a month, and welcome to the sequel to Riddle in Reverse, Steeplechase! If you have not read Riddle in Reverse, you can find it on my profile, and you need to read it first—I’m normally not that strict on adhering to continuity, but this thing really won’t make any dang sense without that fic, and that fic will be less fun if you start reading this first and end up with spoilers.
> 
> Speaking of continuity! This is more of a DCMK fic than the last one, and you are gonna need to know a certain amount of Detective Conan canon. This fic will have spoilers up to episode 561--basically, up to the introduction of Morofushi Taka'aki. There are also a few spoilers for bits of canon after this point. Most notably, the one that has to do with Okiya Subaru. If he is still “the mysterious graduate student” to you, this fic will spoil you. There's also some super-light Mystery Train Arc spoilers, and a bit of spoilery stuff about the London Arc that I will warn you about in the author's not of the chapter when it comes up. The fic is mostly set in MK 1412/ DC anime territory, but also references some of the movies: definitely 3 and 13, and possibly 10 in a section I haven’t yet written. Movie 14 never happened, though. The MK manga chapter Clockwork Heart is also a thing that occurred. I may reference random cases and magic files as convenient, but I will in general not spoil culprits or tricks unless it’s important to the fic's plot. If you want a more complete summary of what canon and spoilery stuff will/won't be in the fic, you can check [this tumblr post](http://ninthfeather.tumblr.com/post/169162943555/okay-so-i-specifically-wrote-this-up-for).
> 
> You may have guessed from the summary that Heiji’s going to appear. He is keeping his accent. If, once he appears (not for a few chapters yet) you have trouble making it out, feel free to leave me an ask on tumblr or a review here—you can do both anonymously, if you feel uncomfortable. I’m sorry, but he talks too much to make the last fic’s hypertext translations a workable solution for me to do with my schedule.
> 
> You’ve read one fic by me, so you should be ready for the fact that I have a lot of headcanons, I occasionally use OCs, and sometimes I even have opinions about things. That said, I think I also have a pretty good story put together for you all. Well, mostly put together. This is a WIP, and while I am many chapters ahead right now, things can go wrong, I have a distressing tendency to get sick, and real life just got a bit busier, so if anything does go wrong I will warn you.
> 
> With all that said, I hope you guys enjoy me throwing all my DCMK feelings (well, mostly MK this chapter) at a wall and seeing which ones stick!
> 
> _(1/13/18: ETA more information about relevant canon content and more comprehensive spoiler warnings)_

“The last time I spoke to him, he said he was going to visit your son,” Hakuba Tsuyoshi said quietly, his voice all but drowned out by the scuffling of forensic techs and uniformed police as they inspected every inch of his son’s bedroom.

Chikage swallowed, thickly.  The room had been nice, before the police got at it.  Unsure of what to say, she surveyed the full bookshelves, a cage that obviously belonged to the boy’s pet hawk, a desk that had probably been neat before someone started rifling through the papers—and the heirloom, quilted bedspread, the only surface in the room that was untouched.

Spread across it, in neat lines, were every single piece of official identification that Hakuba Saguru had.  His adoption certificate and passport alone made up the first row.  The next three were made up of his medical records, registration papers for school and extracurriculars, and even Watson’s ownership papers.  A shorter line, at the bottom, was slightly indented from the others.  At the end of it was a large piece of paper, with a short message written on it in English: “Thank you so much, and goodbye.”

The layout of the papers…it was exactly like a heist note, with the note to Tsuyoshi in the place of the so-called “KID doodle.”

Two messages, then. One for Tsuyoshi:  _“I’m leaving, and you won’t be able to find me.”_ And one for Chikage: _“You know now, and this is the result_.”

“I had asked to speak to both of you,” Tsuyoshi continued, turning back to the empty room.  “Where is young Kaito _-kun_?”

_That question is so much more relevant than you know,_ Chikage thought, a bit hysterically, choking down something between laughter and a sob.

“Kaito isn’t feeling well,” she answered honestly.  “Your son visited with a get-well gift—which was appreciated, by the way.” She took a breath, and gathered herself.  “He’s a good child.”

Tsuyoshi made a low humming noise. “How was he, when he visited?”

Chikage wanted to lie.  Anything near the truth would just attract attention, and that was the last thing she wanted from any police officer, let alone this one.  He’d never know she was lying.  He was smart, but she was a veteran liar and he was unprepared for her deceptions.  No one else had witnessed her conversation with Hakuba.  No one else knew what had happened besides Hakuba-who-was-Kaito—and _he_ wouldn’t be coming back.  When a person shed an identity as thoroughly as he had, they meant it.  He wouldn’t come back himself, and neither Tsuyoshi nor any of his men would be enough to track him down, not when he was _Kaito_ , and _KID_ , and trained to dodge the police in ways they would never even guess he knew.

But…Chikage owed Hakuba something, for protecting _her_ Kaito, if nothing else.  And, standing here, looking at the heist note of cast-off-ID laid out on a warm-looking quilt, half-obscured by the downward slope of Tsuyoshi’s shoulders, she thought maybe she owed him _this._   The place he’d carved out for himself in a time that he didn’t belong in, the one she’d accidentally chased him out of.

 “He was acting jumpy,” Chikage said, carefully.  “Like he was afraid of something.  We spoke about his past and I think something I said may have startled him…if that’s what happened, I am truly sorry.”  She bowed at the waist, and straightened to find Tsuyoshi staring at her, alarmed.

“…He doesn’t speak of such things,” he said.  “Not even with me.  What did he _say?_ ” There was a rawness to the question that had Chikage clinging to Poker Face before she stepped back or flinched.

Logically, she knew that she should just stop talking.  That was the best way to protect the Kaito still bedridden in her house.  But…she couldn’t quite put the disdain in Hakuba’s eyes when he looked at her out of her mind.  Not when she’d started seeing its rough outline on Kaito’s face when she pressed him for answers about Hakuba; not when she could look around this bedroom and _see_ how much Tsuyoshi cared about Hakuba without even looking at his face.  Not when Hakuba had spent nearly two years keeping the Kaito of this time alive from the shadows.

So instead she scrambled for an answer, and found one that was honest enough.  “He said he’d met Toichi,” she said, voice a bit thick.  It had been…some time, since she’d talked of her husband to someone she wasn’t sure knew of the circumstances.

Tsuyoshi looked confused.

“My late husband,” Chikage clarified, quietly.  “He was a magician.  He died in a stage accident when Kaito was in middle school.”  It rankled to call it an _accident_ , even now—but there was little else she could do.  Tsuyoshi was almost certainly trustworthy but the other police officers were unknown quantities at best.

“And how did this come up?” Tsuyoshi asked, eyes narrowed.

“I asked where his interest in Kaito had come from,” Chikage said.  “I didn’t intend to—”

“I’m sure you didn’t, but that’s more than he’s spoken of his life before he started working with Scotland Yard since we purchased Watson,” Tsuyoshi said, expression stony.

Chikage’s confusion must have shown on her face, because Tsuyoshi clarified, “He told Baaya that he had a bird, once.”

_The doves_ , Chikage thought.  _Did he miss them?  He must have—_ “Is his hawk still here?”

“Of course,” Tsuyoshi said, a parody of a smile on his lips.  “He _knows_ he couldn’t provide for her.  All that’s missing is a single suitcase, some of his plainer clothing, toiletries and a few days’ worth of nonperishable food.  He’s always been a practical boy.”

_He was trained well_ , Chikage thought, with a swell of utterly misplaced pride.

“Not a single keepsake,” Tsuyoshi continued.  “None of the Sherlock Holmes collections, not the Inverness, not even the cufflinks I bought him for his birthday.”  The twisted-up smile fell away, replaced by a look of deep exhaustion.  “I wasn’t home as much as I wanted to be, I’ll admit that readily enough.  But when I was here, I tried to make certain that he knew how much he meant to me, and my wife did the same.  I thought, perhaps, that would be enough.” 

He took a breath.  “But we always knew that he might leave.  I just thought…I’d wanted this place to be somewhere that he could remember happily, so that he might at least want a _reminder_ —”  He broke off, frowning deeply.

_I’ve made a mistake_ , Chikage thought, feeling blindsided. _In trying to find the truth, I’ve stolen something much more precious from Hakuba.  And phantom thieves don’t steal what they aren’t able to return._

_I need to make this right._

 “It’s so you won’t be able to find him,” she said, softly.  “Hakuba _-san,_ can we speak in the hall?”

Tsuyoshi gave her a sharp look, but followed her into the corridor, a Western-style affair with thick carpet and tan-painted walls lit by sconce-encased lightbulbs.  Chikage hesitated, putting a few final touches on the story she was fabricating before she spoke.

“Kuroba _-san_?” Tsuyoshi asked, forcing politeness into his question.

“I’m going to need you to trust me, Hakuba _-san_ ,” Chikage said.  “If what Hakuba said about when he met Toichi was accurate, there’s a chance that some of what he hasn’t told you about his past involves his family getting mixed up with people who knew a _lot_ about running and hiding.  So finding him might be a bit more difficult than you think.”

Tsuyoshi looked alarmed, and Chikage held up a hand.

“Don’t think that means it’s impossible,” she said.  “It just means that relying on the police alone might not be the best option.  There are some people I’ve met while working in Las Vegas that I can contact, and…well, I don’t know how reluctant you’ll be to do this, but if he’s not found by the next KID heist, you might try asking KID for his assistance.  That is, assuming he doesn’t find out by himself and join of his own accord.  He _is_ fond of your son—and he’s creative enough in his methods to have a chance at finding him.”

“Kuroba _-san_ , this isn’t the time for jokes—”

“I wasn’t joking,” Chikage said.  “Your son didn’t bring keepsakes with him, because someone might be able to identify him if they found he had them.  It isn’t because he won’t miss you.  It’s because he’s worried about being found, and because someone taught him enough to know that he should avoid carrying identifying items.”

“I don’t like what you’re implying about his childhood,” Tsuyoshi said slowly.  “What sort of people are you talking about, that he might have met at the same time that he met your late husband?”

“People Toichi mistook for legitimate,” Chikage said, thin-lipped.  _Hakuba certainly has encountered that particular group.  It’s true enough_.  “They’re not who he’s running from, though.  I believe he thought that I might be…indiscreet, with this knowledge of his past, and so he got nervous.  Your son is a proud young man.”

“I doubt he ran off simply out of pride,” Tsuyoshi said, frowning.

“Figuring out the reasons is probably best left to yourself and your men,” Chikage said.  “But finding him?  _That_ may be beyond them.  So I will contact people.  And I do recommend, if enough time passes, contacting KID as well.”

Tsuyoshi held her gaze for a long moment.  “If he’s run off like this…if he’s putting forth so much effort…isn’t it possible that he doesn’t _want_ to be found?” he asked.  “I will miss him more than I can say, but that’s not what’s most important here.  What he wants is.  If I can confirm that he’s not in immediate danger…this may have been something he was considering for a long time.  It certainly looked that way.”

He looked slumped and almost defeated in the muted light of the hallway, but his expression was utterly serious.  He was ready to let a boy he’d spent years and time and money on run off without more than a short note, as long as he knew that he was safe and thought it might be what he wanted.  When Chikage compared that to how she interacted with Kaito…she didn’t like the contrast.  Not one bit.

“I don’t think he prepared for it,” Chikage said aloud.  “I just think he was being thorough.  Kaito says he’s like that.  I don’t think this was something he wanted to happen.”

She paused, and thought about how long it had been since she’d stayed in Japan, about why she usually called Kaito and about how angry Corbeau had made Hakuba.

“He was happy here, wasn’t he?” she asked softly.

“Not always, but more often than he was in England, I’m told,” Tsuyoshi replied.

“Well, then, isn’t being here what’s best for him?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light.  “I’m sure his birth parents, wherever they might be, would agree with that.”

Tsuyoshi frowned.  “I don’t particularly care what their opinions are,” he said, a bit darkly. “He’s said that his father is dead, but he told me that the reason he’s living under an assumed name is that he’d prefer not to be found by his mother.  He said it was ‘better for everyone involved’ were she not to know where he was, but if the situation was such that he felt it necessary to go to London and live on his own, I can’t really entertain a good opinion of the woman.”

Poker Face was only barely sufficient to keep Chikage’s face neutral.  Internally, she was reeling.  _I guessed, that it was me that he was avoiding, but to hear it said like that…if Tsuyoshi knew he was talking to the woman he has such a bad opinion of, I wonder what he’d do?_ she thought.

And then, _Living on his own?  In London?  …how long was he in this time before Tsuyoshi found him?_

Something finally must’ve peeked through Poker Face, because Tsuyoshi’s expression softened.  “I do at least have some comfort, from that,” he said.  “Saguru lived in London for roughly a year before I adopted him.  I can be secure in his ability to take care of himself.”

He sighed, then added, “Perhaps not _well_ , but adequately.”

_A year_ , Chikage thought.  _Kaito’s personality isn’t suited to spending that much time alone.  And…I still don’t know how old he was, exactly, when that happened…only that he was younger than_ my _Kaito is, now, when he travelled back in time.  My Kaito wouldn’t be ready to live on his own.  I wonder if he was?_

 “Well, then, we’ll have to trust him to do it again for a while, at least until we can find him,” Chikage said.

“Kuroba _-san_ , why are you doing this?” Tsuyoshi asked, softly.  “Even if you do suspect that it was your conversation with him that caused him to leave, that hardly makes bringing him back your responsibility…”

_Yes, it does_ , Chikage bit down on her automatic reply.  There was no way to safely explain a phantom thief’s code of honor to Tsuyoshi.  And so, she took the next best option and shuffled one piece of truth with another.

“I’m sure he was too humble to mention it, but your son saved my son’s life,” Chikage said.  “As a fellow parent, you can understand that kind of debt.”

Tsuyoshi blinked owlishly at her.  “What—when—how?” 

“You’ll be asking me to bring Kaito with me for formal questioning about your son’s disappearance, correct?” Chikage asked.  “As a matter of procedure, of course. I’ll explain then.  It’s not something I’d particularly like to discuss over and over.”

_After all_ , she thought, _the more often one tells a lie, the more likely one is to mix up or forget details in one of the tellings._

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Kaito woke up, aching, the memory of Hakuba’s visit foggy and distorted.  He tried to remember it more clearly and failed, getting only a brief flash of Hakuba’s hair and the sound of his mother calling his name in distress—wait, no, when did _that_ happen?

To his reopened eyes, the world wasn’t right.  Normally, he knew where he was and where everything else was— _spatial perception,_ far-off memory filled in—but right now, he wasn’t quite certain of that orientation.  He could tell where everything was within about an inch—but he’d long lost count of how many times an inch had decided KID’s fate, so even a margin that small set his nerves on edge.  Everything he looked at seemed just a bit too bright, almost glowing, and the room curved out before him at an angle that didn’t quite match memory.  Well, flashes of memory.  Long-term recall was like picking a card when someone else was doing a magic trick—he wasn’t quite sure if he was going to pull something usable or not.  This was particularly true of anything since the heist—he tried to put together a metaphor about it using fifty-two card pickup and it somehow veered into trying to clean up the doves’ feathers.  In fog.

As he tried to focus his vision and his thoughts, his mother came into view.  Not quite clear, not yet, but he could see enough to tell that she looked _awful_ and it could be no one else’s fault but his.  The shadows of exhaustion under her eyes, how pale she was, the way her lips thinned until they were white-that was all on him.  _That_ was why he needed to be more careful.

“Mom?” he asked, his throat drier than he remembered it being.  “Now that I’ve been awake awhile--how bad was it?”

“Only tissue damage from the bullet,” she said, softly.  “You’ve also got a lot of bruising from the fall and some of it is probably internal.  The biggest problem is that the bullet nicked a blood vessel, and you were bleeding badly.  I nearly had to figure out how to get you a transfusion without outing you as KID.”

“Scarring?” he asked, glad she hadn’t actually tried to do _that._

“Definitely, internal and external, but it shouldn’t affect your range of movement much,” Chikage answered.  “But—there’s something else…”

“No, I have something to tell—” he broke off, as he realized that taking a deep breath in preparation to speak _hurt_.  _Okay, bruising sucks, just count, 1, 2, 3, and then—Poker Face._ “To tell you first.  Hakuba’s been helping me.  Like, sneakily.”

Chikage’s expression was grave.  “I know,” she said. 

_—What?_   “Did he tell you?”

“That, and more,” Chikage said, softly.

“More?” Kaito blinked, trying to clear sleep from his vision.  It wasn’t working.  “What more—did he tell you _why?_ ”  _I wanted to ask him that!_

Chikage looked stricken for a moment, and Kaito realized, with a jolt as sharp as any actual pain he was feeling, that he’d gotten through her Poker Face.  Which _didn’t happen._ A little bit of panic started to seep through the bleary exhaustion that he could finally explain with the newfound memory of “ _hospital-grade pain medication.”_

“I…pushed him into telling me why,” Chikage said, neutral expression back in place, if wearier than before.  “I was concerned about his motives.  They…weren’t what I expected.”

Kaito took a careful deep breath, and managed to say, “I kept trying to come up with a good theory, but nothing stuck.  What’d I miss?”

“Your classmate the witch’s involvement for one,” Chikage said.  “It isn’t exactly an obvious reason, Kaito.”

 “Akako- _san?_   Is she controlling—” Kaito tried to sit up, and _that_ was a grade-A bad idea.  This time, his vision just went completely white and when color and sensation snapped back into focus he was on his back and in more pain than he had been _before_ he’d done something incredibly stupid.

“No, and be careful,” Chikage said.  “Didn’t I tell you that you came close to needing a transfusion?”

Kaito answered her with a faint groan and the question, “Well, if she’s not controlling him, how’s she involved?”

Chikage rubbed her temples.  “She brought him here.  From the future.”

“Um, what?” Kaito asked blankly.  “Wait, is this like _Terminator?_   Because on one hand Hakuba being a robot would explain some things,” he took another careful breath, “but on the other I have had some _bad_ experiences with robots that look like people.”  A third breath, _Is this actually happening? When did my life get so weird?_ “At least this one doesn’t look like me?”

Chikage’s expression froze.  Kaito was now _officially_ worried.

“What did I say?” he asked.

“That’s not…he’s not a robot, _honestly,_ Kaito, but he does actually look like you,” Chikage said.

“Mom, I’ve seen him before—”

“Without the disguise makeup,” Chikage corrected, and that sent Kaito’s train of thought screeching to a messy halt.

“Disguise makeup?” he demanded, finding his voice rough.  _This doesn’t make any sense._   “Where the _heck_ did he pick _that_ up?”

“He learned it from Toichi, like you did,” Chikage said.

Kaito froze, words piling up among fogged thoughts and then spilling out all at once.

“So, what, he travelled back in time far enough to _meet_ Dad, didn’t bother saving him,” he took a quick, forced breath, choking on anger and pain that wasn’t only bruising, “and then decided for some reason that he had to protect _me?_ ”

Bare-faced shock, then a flicker of horror, then plain, soft grief replaced Chikage’s Poker Face.  The grief stayed longest—Kaito blinked, and it was still there.  “I didn’t get a chance to ask, but I’m certain that if he had travelled far enough back to save your father, he would have,” Chikage said.  “I can’t believe otherwise.”

“You barely know him,” Kaito said, exhausted.

Chikage’s expression tightened.  “I know him well enough to say that much. It’s what you would do, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…but Hakuba’s not me,” Kaito pointed out, wondering when _he’d_ become the voice of reason.

Chikage said nothing but her Poker Face twitched.

_What the—_

“Hakuba _isn’t_ me, Mom,” he repeated, patiently.  “Even if he’s from the future, Future-Hakuba is his own person, and—”

“Future-Hakuba apparently doesn’t exist,” Chikage said.  She sounded like she was trying to be glib, but there was a bleak undertone to her voice.  “And, to use your terms, ‘Future-Kaito’ created the one you know as a persona.”

Kaito tried to come up with a response to that.  All he managed was, “That’s not funny.”

“It’s really not,” Chikage agreed, looking very tired.

“You’re serious?”

“Completely.”

“Is this a hallucination?” Kaito asked aloud.  “It would explain how the colors are weird.”

“I didn’t give you _that_ much medication,” Chikage said.  “Though the dosage might need adjusting, if it’s affecting your vision.”

“You wouldn’t make a joke like this,” Kaito said, quietly horrified.  “So either Hakuba is screwing with you or _this is actually happening what the_ _heck?_ ”

_If it’s the former, I didn’t know Hakuba’s sense of humor was…well, existent enough for that?_ he thought, bewildered. _And if it’s the latter…_

_Okay, you can demand answers from Mom until_ Tantei-kun _is an old man_ , _or you can_ think, Kaito thought.  _If Hakuba is future me, then we must think kind of the same way.  So, answer it yourself.  If you came back in time, why would you become a_ critic _, of all things, instead of just helping KID outright?_

The answer was obvious, once he considered it.  _I would know that I wouldn’t just accept help from a random person.  Even me.  Not to mention…_ The memories were blurry, and there were some that Kaito couldn’t quite get to, but what he could recall of Hakuba’s interference didn’t follow a pattern of making heists easier, it followed a pattern of making them safer.

_When I thought he hadn’t saved Dad—_ he had to pause, at that thought, and ache for the him-who-wasn’t-him, because traveling back in time but not far enough to save Toichi was the stuff of nightmares— _I wondered why he was protecting me.  That’s still a good question.  And the only reason I can think of is that he thinks I need it.  Or knows, I guess, if he knows what’s gonna happen._

_But he only knows what’s gonna happen as long as things don’t change too much...which is why he wasn’t helping openly.  He couldn’t risk affecting my plans and messing up his knowledge of the future.  Still doesn’t explain why he was a_ critic _, but maybe he told Mom something?_

_And also…if his whole plan was about helping from the shadows, but Mom knows now, and so do I—what would I do, if that happened?_

Kaito thought he knew, but he wanted to be sure.

“Mom, where’s Hakuba now?” he asked, carefully.

“He disappeared and left all of his legal identification in his room,” Chikage said, tone flat.

_So, I was right,_ Kaito thought.  _Not that it’s any consolation.  Seriously, how can he stand being a critic?  Always being right about things you’d rather be wrong about…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Today’s reminder to myself: No matter how bad my day gets, I can’t possibly be having a worse day than Kaito is in this chapter.
> 
> If you have questions, you can come ask me them on [tumblr](http://ninthfeather.tumblr.com), or feel free to leave me shouty reviews.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to miladyRanger for beta-ing! I didn’t really make it clear in the last chapter, but this fic will be updating weekly on Tuesdays, just like the last one, if my schedule continues to allow it. It may not, and if it doesn’t, I will let you know—both on Tumblr, if you follow me or check there, and in the author’s notes here.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Twice in police departments in the same month was a new record for Chikage and one she hoped never to break.  Honestly, even just standing outside an interrogation room made her ill at ease; questioning was going to be absolutely _unpleasant._

But, it was necessary to convince the police that Hakuba’s disappearance was a result of his deciding to become a fugitive.  Specifically, she needed to take suspicion off of his classroom rival and her, his classroom rival’s mother, who had been systematically investigating him—both of whom had motive galore and had been the last people to see him before he vanished.

Put like that it was no wonder they’d been asked to come in for questioning.

Chikage understood that time was essential in these sorts of cases, and so she’d complied when the police had scheduled their “meeting” with a detective named Takagi for 9 a.m. the next day, but she wished she could’ve said no.  Neither the early hour nor the fact that he had to get out of bed in the first place were doing Kaito any favors.

Some of the bruises were fading, and his color had progressed from dangerously pale to just sickly.  Still, the facemask he was wearing as part of her planned lie to the police did nothing to hide the fact that he was both drowsy from pain medication, and still in some amount of pain.  He was in no fit state for a police interrogation, or even to be in the police department at all; if Nakamori came through ranting about KID he was likely to start defending his alter ego using the pronoun “I.” 

At least there were chairs, however uncomfortable, in the hallway of the department, so they could sit while they waited for Takagi to show up. 

Chikage perked up at the sound of approaching footsteps—and then wilted, as she realized that they were too small and close together to belong to an adult man.   Disappointment turned to confusion as she realized that they were in fact too small and close together to be anyone’s but perhaps a small child’s.

And then, she caught sight of a small boy with thick, square glasses and a familiar brown cowlick.

 _Someone out there must hate me_ , she thought.  _Why else would Edogawa Conan show up now?_

_Don’t engage, don’t engage…no, it would be weird not to ask a little boy what he’s doing in a police station…except, he told me he was a detective… would a regular person remember that from meeting a person once, though?  I’ve been staring at him too long, I’m suspicious now either way…._

“Are you here doing detective work, Conan _-kun_?” Chikage asked.

“Ran took me out to breakfast and somebody got murdered, so we have to give statements,” Conan said.  “That’s what’s taking Detective Takagi so long.  He told me I should apologize to you for him.”

“Well, that’s very nice of you, but I don’t think it’s very professional for Detective Takagi to send a little boy to run his errands,” Chikage said.

Conan smirked for a half a second, like he knew something that Chikage didn’t, and then asked, “Were you two really the last people to see Hakuba- _nii-san_ before he vanished?”

“It seems like it,” Chikage said.  “I hope they can find him soon.”

“Even though he was bothering your son?” Conan asked.

“I just wanted him to be nicer,” Chikage said.  “I never wanted him to disappear.”  _It’s even true.  I just wanted to figure out what Hakuba’s intentions were.  I never wanted him to be hurt._

Conan’s attention suddenly shifted to Kaito.  “So you’re her son?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Kaito said, voice soft and a little breathy.

“Are you okay, _nii-san_?” Conan asked.

“I had an accident a few days ago,” Kaito said.  “So I’m not feeling too good.”

“Oh,” Conan said.  And then, his eyes narrowed.  “Say, you look a _lot_ like Shinichi _-nii-san_.”

Kaito blanched, in that particular _You-caught-me_ way that Chikage still recognized from when he was little and she would catch him trying to steal _dango_ from the fridge when she wasn’t paying attention.

 _That’s right,_ Chikage realized.  _KID disguises as Kudou Shinichi a lot, doesn’t he—because Kaito looks like him.  Oh.  This is serious._

She glanced at her son, who was still just barely managing to sit up straight and hold Conan’s gaze.  On a good day, he could lead any detective on a merry chase, but today…he might not even be able to worm his way out of one accusation.

Not without help.

 _I didn’t like how Tsuyoshi’s parenting compared to mine,_ she thought.  _So I’ll create a few new points of comparison_.

“Wrong again, _Mei-tan-tei_ - _kun_ ,” she sing-songed in Kaitou KID’s voice.  “Well, not about the resemblance,” she added, holding a finger to her lips.  “They say everyone’s got a doppelganger, so why not two?  Anyhow, don’t harass the kid, he’s in enough pain without you adding to it.”

“Kaitou KID,” Conan accused, with a truly impressive scowl.

Kaito, meanwhile, was staring at her in abject, undisguised shock—which is what any normal civilian would do when confronted with Kaitou KID disguising as their mother.  Good enough. 

“Don’t get all huffy, I’m just here to figure out exactly what happened to my missing critic,” Chikage said, still using KID’s voice as she held up her hands in a gesture of innocence.  “I hope you don’t think _I_ had anything to do with it.”

“Actually, they’re saying he ran away on his own, but the woman you’re disguising as is suspicious,” Conan said, eyes still narrowed.  “She was asking around about him, last month.”

“You were—she was _what?_ ” Kaito half-screeched, staring at Conan, then Chikage.

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Chikage said, dodging the question neatly by staying in character.  “But there weren’t any signs of forced entry or struggle at his house.  Just a compulsively neat spread of all his identification and a short note for his father.”

“How’d you find out that much?” Conan demanded.  “Where’s the woman you’re impersonating?”

“She’s fine, she’s just in the restroom,” Chikage said, waving a hand as if to dismiss the question. “I slipped in after she left while her son was dozing off.  I got all the rest of the information in a different disguise.”

“So this outfit was for talking to me?” Conan asked.

“ _Bingo_!” Chikage exclaimed in English.  “You’re one of the best critics chasing me, and if you’re going to chase _Tantei-san_ , too, I want you on the right track.  Right, now, all the evidence says that he ran of his own will.  Which means that if you look for him, you’re up against his intelligence, not some two-bit kidnapper’s.  You understand, right?”

Conan nodded.  “But if he left of his own will…”

“Even if I’m helping you, a phantom thief still has to have secrets,” Chikage said.  “And this time, one of them is why finding him is important.”

Conan studied her, for a moment.  “I’ve trusted you before, and you’ve never betrayed that trust when something that mattered was at stake,” he said, slowly.

Chikage glanced at Kaito, over Conan’s head.  He nodded. 

“There are some things, critic, that just aren’t yours to know right now, okay?” she said.

Conan frowned. “Okay.  Now, get out of here, so Takagi can talk to the real Kuroba Chikage.”

 _Why does just knowing that he knows my name make me want to run? He is such a creepy child_.

“Of course,” Chikage said, standing and dipping into a sweeping bow. 

Conan made a dismissive sort of huffing noise as he walked away.

As soon as Conan was out of hearing range, Kaito finally added a question to all of his wide-eyed staring.  “Why?”

“You weren’t ready for him.  I was,” Chikage replied, with a small smile. 

Kaito’s eyes softened.  “Thank you,” he said softly, still sounding a bit disbelieving.

If it was really throwing her kid this much that she’d helped him out…maybe Chikage had screwed up more than she thought. 

“It’s not something you need to thank me for,” she said, standing.  “Now, don’t forget to tell me what happened when I ‘get back from the restroom.’”

Kaito nodded.  The mask still obscured his face, but the way his cheeks moved beneath it told her he was smiling.

“It’s showtime,” he said.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“What do you mean, you saw KID?” Tsuyoshi’s voice demanded, echoing slightly down the police station’s corridor.

Chikage took that as her cue.  “Kaito?”

“Mom!” Kaito exclaimed a bit faintly, looking toward her with real relief in her eyes— _ah, he’s probably not enjoying the fact that the police outnumber him two-to-one right now._

He was, in a sense, surrounded, with Takagi standing to his left and Hakuba Tsuyoshi to his right.  And, even unable to use them, a phantom thief valued escape routes like oxygen.  Chikage quickly swooped in, standing close enough to Takagi that she forced him to take a step toward Tsuyoshi. 

“Your son said that you were just impersonated by Kaitou KID,” Takagi said.  “Do you mind if we check?”

“Check?” Chikage asked, considering and discarding the idea of feigning total ignorance.  Tsuyoshi knew of her friendship with the Nakamoris and her husband’s unconventional contacts; she should, given that, know what Takagi meant.

“For masks,” Takagi elaborated.

Chikage sighed, nodded, and stood still and silent as Takagi pinched her cheek.

“It’s really her,” he declared.

“Well, then, if you wouldn’t mind?” Tsyoshi asked, opening the interrogation room door and gesturing.

Chikage hooked a hand under Kaito’s good shoulder, and helped him up. 

“’m fine, Mom, really,” Kaito said blearily. 

Chikage shook her head and kept a hand on his arm as they followed Takagi into the room.

As expected, there were two chairs on each side of the table.  Strategically, she left the one closer to the door to Kaito—on the off chance they had to make a quick escape, he’d need the head start.  Takagi seated himself across from her, while Tsuyoshi took the seat across from Kaito.

Well, with all the players present, it was time to begin.

Chikage looked at the police officer across the interrogation table, taking in dark, sincere eyes and hair that needed a trim last month, and considered her options.

Lying, she reflected, was like cheating at poker.  You couldn’t do it the same way against every opponent.

Lying to Inspector Nakamori was just a matter of dealing in the flashiest way possible, drawing his eyes around like a fish on a line, here and there across the table--everywhere but to the bulge of hidden cards up your sleeve.  Lying to Aoko was simply pretending clumsiness once or twice, dropping the cards and perhaps pocketing one or two as you gathered them.  Lying to Kaito was a much more delicate matter, one that relied on him believing that he knew the trick and it only extended so far--playing the not-quite-fool and laying down poor hands with a silly grin and a wink to him as you cleaned out the rest of the table together, while counting cards to yourself and cheating him as well.  

None of those would work on Detective Takagi Wataru, she could see it already.  For him, she would need Poker Face and a perfectly-laid-out spread as she counted cards silently.  The man worked with Edogawa regularly; that alone made him dangerous.

And, of course, sitting next to him was Hakuba Tsuyoshi, who was far more accustomed to playing against cheaters, accustomed enough to suspect if Poker Face held up _too_ well.

Being a phantom thief, having two identities…it was always walking a tightrope.  But not often so much as it was now.  One false move, and she risked not just herself, but also her son. And while Hakuba was not in such visceral danger as they, he would certainly never be found if the two of them ended up in prison, unable to help in the search.

It had been some time since so much rested on her shoulders.  But Kaitou Corbeau had been far more than a passing fancy or a burden she wasn’t able to shoulder.  Chikage was _prepared_ , and the interrogation room was her stage, starting now.

“Thank you for being willing to talk to us both together,” she said, softly, placing a hand on her son’s shoulder.  The plush weave of an oversize sweater, deliberately selected to obscure the wad of bandages on his shoulder, squished slightly underneath her fingers.  “I think KID impersonating me was one too many surprises.  He’s still not recovered, you see.”

“Recovered?” Takagi asked.

“A few days ago…three now, I suppose, he came home from school with a fever,” Chikage said.  “He woke up seeming improved, and he was anxious about missing work, so I allowed him to go to school the next day.  It was a mistake.”

“He’s an excellent actor, when it comes to pretending he’s feeling better than he is—ask Inspector Nakamori’s daughter, she’s as tired of it as I am—so I’m sure no one noticed, but he was still sick and by the day he was running a very high fever.  Of course, being himself, he didn’t even try to excuse himself from cleaning the classroom after school,” for effect, she shot her son a look. He glared back.  “It took him longer than normal, of course, and then he got dizzy at the top of one of the taller staircases and _tripped_.”

Takagi gave Kaito an alarmed look.  Kaito blinked back, a bit sleepily. 

“I see now why your mother didn’t want you to come in,” Tsuyoshi said, voice a bit hushed.  “I am sorry to have asked you here, when you probably ought not to be out of the _hospital—”_

“He only fell down about a third of the way, thanks to your son,” Chikage said, fitting her real relief at Hakuba’s help with Kaito’s gunshot wound to this fabrication. “His shoulder’s badly hurt, and he’s got a lot of bruises, but nothing more serious than that.  That’s what I meant earlier when I said Saguru _-kun_ saved his life.  If he’d fallen the whole way…”

“It doesn’t particularly bear thinking about, does it?” Tsuyoshi murmured.

“No,” Chikage said.  “I don’t know why Saguru _-kun_ was there, but I’m grateful that he was.  Between the fever and the fall, Kaito wasn’t lucid enough to get himself home, so Saguru _-kun_ called me.  I was, honestly, a bit too frantic to think about calling an ambulance…but it turned out to be an acceptable decision.  His fever was down by the time we made it to the house, and none of his injuries were serious enough to warrant a hospital trip.”

“But he has seen a doctor?” Takagi asked, fishing for an independent source of corroboration for her story.

“Of course,” Chikage said, making a mental note that she needed to ask Jii if he’d maintained the address for that doctor persona Toichi used to use on occasion to lie about his medical care.  If not, she could probably just impersonate someone.

“So, that explains why you felt indebted to Saguru,” Tsuyoshi said.  “But you were still the last person to have seen him.  Could you tell us about your conversation, when you last saw him?”

“I was surprised to see him,” Chikage said.  _The best lies contain truth_.  “Even though he prevented Kaito from being seriously injured, nothing he said or did really convinced me that he did it for Kaito’s sake.  I thought he was merely acting out of human decency, so I wasn’t expecting to get a visit from him the next day.

“You know that I’ve been concerned about the relationship between our sons, and that I looked into Saguru as a result,” she continued, with a glance at Tsuyoshi, “and I’ve no doubt that you’ve told Officer Takagi about my investigations.  Ultimately, at the point when Saguru arrived at my house, I’d arrived at the conclusion that he didn’t pose a threat to my son, but also that his and Kaito’s rivalry was serious enough to warrant watching, and for me to consider odd, given that the only apparent causes were their differing opinions on KID and their rivalry over Nakamori Aoko.”

Tsuyoshi looked confused.  “When I asked him about her, he said that he’d made a mistake, and that she already had an interest in someone else.”  He turned his gaze on Kaito.  “I can’t be certain, but it seemed an awful lot like he was ceding to you, young man.”

Kaito stared at him, wide-eyed with something closer to faint hope than excitement.  Chikage, meanwhile, was slowly realizing that watching her son without Poker Face was nothing less than uncomfortable and unexpectedly sad.

 _Wasn’t Jii supposed to be making sure he could handle this?_ she wondered, as she watched Kaito get his face back into its proper order.

She shook her head, as if to clear it.  “At any rate, his making a sickbed visit didn’t fit that impression.  So, after I let him visit with Kaito for a very short while—”

“Perhaps Kaito would like to describe that part,” Takagi suggested.

“I’d like to,” Kaito said, a smile crinkling the edges of his eyes. “But I don’t really remember it.  Like, I remember that it happened, I kinda remember seeing Hakuba, and…that’s about it.”  His tone turned serious.  “I wish I could help more.”

“It can’t be helped,” Tsuyoshi said softly, exhaustion plain in his voice.  He turned to Chikage.  “If you could continue your story?”

“I found Saguru’s visit odd, so after he visited with Kaito—it really was a short visit; Saguru told Kaito that he brought him pudding as a get-well gift and wished him a quick recovery—I asked him to stay and talk for a while,” Chikage said. “He agreed.  I asked him what, exactly, his interest in Kaito was.”

Chikage paused, and took a breath. _Time to deal the cards again.  Not that you aren’t already all in, now._

“And his answer was?” Takagi prompted.

“He was reluctant to answer me at first, but he eventually admitted that he had, when he was much younger, encountered my husband,” Chikage said, dropping her gaze to the table.  “Toichi was a world-famous magician, so there’s a chance you might have heard of him.”

“I think I saw his obituary,” Takagi said delicately, which was apparently as close as he dared to get to _Isn’t he the magician who died in the middle of a trick a few years ago?_

“That was probably him,” Chikage said with a tight-lipped nod.  “He travelled around quite a lot for performances—sometimes Kaito and I joined him; other times, we did not.  He met a lot of people in his travels, and by Saguru’s account, at least one of those people was him.  It seems that Toichi made quite the impression.”

“That doesn’t seem as though it would be a reason to run away,” Takagi said.

“No, it doesn’t,” Tsuyoshi said. “Did he say anything else?”

“He answered my question,” Chikage said.  “It seems that his interest in Kaito began as an interest in Toichi’s child.  But he didn’t tell me anything else, he seemed reluctant to have said that much…and he left, very abruptly, just afterwards.”

“But you didn’t tell anyone?”

“What, and violate his privacy?” Chikage asked.  “None of that gave me any reason to think he would run away—I just thought he’d gone home because I’d upset him somehow.  I learned from investigating him that he was adopted; I thought perhaps talking about meeting Toichi when he was young had brought up some memory of his biological parents and he was upset by that.”

“That’s…not a bad theory,” Takagi said.  “What was it you said that you did, Kuroba _-san_?”

“I didn’t,” Chikage said.  “I’ve been working as a stage magician in Las Vegas with tricks I learned from Toichi; I traveled back recently to check on my son.”

“I see,” Takagi said.  “And before that?”

“Well, while Toichi was alive I was a homemaker,” Chikage said, honestly enough.  _No one puts ‘accomplice to KID’ on their resume, much less admits it to cops._   “And before that? We married quite young, but I was at the beginning of a professional gymnastics career.” _And a solo career as a phantom thief, but I’m even less likely to admit to that._

Takagi raised an eyebrow.  “So you’re a gymnast and a magician?”

Chikage sighed, a long, drawn-out affair.  _Time to bluff_.  “Don’t tell me you’re suspecting me as _KID_ , now.  If I were, why on _Earth_ would I have impersonated _myself_?”

“Officer, don’t waste time with wild theories,” Tsuyoshi scolded.

“Okay, now that I think about it, it sounds pretty out there,” Takagi admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

_And, one perfect hand, courtesy years of experience lying and a hearty dose of desperation.  Thank you, whoever’s listening._

“Is there anything else we can tell you?” Chikage asked briskly.  “I would like to help; however, I would also like to get Kaito home as soon as possible.”

“I understand,” Tsuyoshi said softly.

“You say he seemed upset,” Takagi said.  “Could you be more specific?”

“Anxious,” Chikage said.  “He seemed anxious—”

A series of sharp raps on the door interrupted her.  Both the rhythm and weight of the pounding seemed familiar… _Wait_.

“Ginzou _-san_?” she called.

“Chikage _-san_?” came Ginzou’s voice, only slightly muffled by a room that probably _had_ been soundproof a decade ago.  “What the h*** is all of this about Hakuba _-kun_ disappearing?”

Laying his forehead in his hand, Tsuyoshi waved vaguely toward the door, and said, in a tone of great exhaustion, “Let him in.”

Takagi stood, unlocked the door, and then scrambled backward as Ginzou burst through, scowling.  And then froze, mid-step, in the doorway.

“The _f***_ happened to you, Kaito _-kun_?” he demanded, staring.

“Had a fever and then fell down some stairs,” Kaito said.  “I’m fine though.”

“The _h***_ you are,” Ginzou said, with feeling.  He turned his gaze to Tsuyoshi, who straightened in his seat.  “Sir, I heard…well, I hope it’s just a fu—er, messed up rumor, but—is Hakuba _-kun_ missing?”

Tsuyoshi nodded.  “He left last night, in a manner that seemed to indicate he didn’t intend to return.”

Ginzou’s eyes narrowed in confusion.  “But—with respect, sir, he doesn’t seem the type.”

“There is a lot about Saguru you don’t know,” Tsuyoshi said softly.

“Well, that much I _know_ ,” Ginzou grumbled.

“Are you talking about the things we discussed when I asked you about him?” Chikage asked.

“Not just that,” Ginzou said. He turned, and pulled the door shut behind him.  “I’m guessing this,” he gestured to the room, and, presumably, to Chikage and Kaito’s presence therein, “is about him going missing, somehow.”

“I was the last person to see him,” Chikage said.

“Right,” Ginzou said.  “Well, if you guys are gonna look for him, there’s something else you oughta know.  He asked me not to put it in the records, though, so I’d appreciate it if it stayed in this room.”

“What is it?” Tsuyoshi asked, leaning forward.

“What happened on the last heist,” Ginzou said. 

“The incident report said that KID was superficially injured,” Tsuyoshi said.  “He was here earlier, checking in on the progress of the case…Kaito _-kun_ and Edogawa Conan were the only ones to interact with him, though.”

“I missed him?” Ginzou demanded.  “D*** sneak-thief—”

“Ginzou _-san,_ focus,” Chikage interrupted, intrigued despite herself. “What does the heist have to do with Hakuba’s disappearance?”

“The report says that we thought KID was down and then he came over to the roof where we were and knocked Hakuba out,” Ginzou said.  “What actually happened was more like…Hakuba went over to get KID after he got shot down, and it turned out that KID wasn’t hurt as bad as we thought.”

“The incident report said that when KID was injured, he fell onto the roof of a privately owned residence about a quarter of a mile away from the heist site,” Tsuyoshi said, watching Ginzou carefully.

“That part was accurate,” Ginzou said.

“How’d he get over there?” Takagi asked, baffled.

“Looked kinda like that _parukouru_ stuff Kaito _-kun_ used to talk about,” Ginzou said.

“Parkour?” Kaito echoed, breathily, but with flawless pronunciation.  “ _He_ knows _parkour_?”

“Knowing parkour is one thing, dear, but Hakuba apparently knows how to do it on rooftops,” Chikage remarked.  She glanced at Takagi.  “You might want to take that into account when looking for him.”

“Yeah,” Takagi said slowly.

Tsuyoshi was just staring at Ginzou, pale-faced.

“So you really didn’t know,” Ginzou said.  “Well, then, seems I got a coupla other things to tell you about what exactly your son came to me capable of doin’.”

Tsuyoshi’s eyes flew to Chikage.

“There’s a reason my investigation didn’t end where it began,” she said slowly.  _No covering for him now without exposing myself and Kaito.  D***._

Takagi looked distinctly uncomfortable, but Tsuyoshi put a hand on his shoulder.  “You ought to listen too,” he said.  “It could be important to the case.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case it’s not obvious—KID, per Movie 3, does know who Conan is, but Chikage does not. She and Kaito don’t talk a lot about KID or his activities and since he didn’t have any indication until recently that she was an active thief, Kaito felt no need to make an effort to bring him up in order to warn her—which is really the only reason he’d tell her. So Chikage still considers Conan a terrifying child and that only.
> 
> For the record, Chikage’s lie in this chapter, about Kaito falling down the stairs and Hakuba catching him and getting help, would make an excellent H/C fic with the canon versions of the characters. It’s officially up for adoption, if anyone wants to write the thing.
> 
> There is now art for this chapter! You can find it on [Tumblr](http://ninthfeather.tumblr.com/post/143500098565/steeplechase-sketchdump-1-more-art-steeplechase) with captions, or on [pixiv](http://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=56570565).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Detective Conan cast will start appearing in earnest this chapter! In other important news, I have a job which may or may not affect my posting schedule. I should be able to tell you by next chapter. Finally, please check out last chapter’s end note if you’d like to see some of the sketches I did for this fic!
> 
> As always, the disclaimer is that this fic runs on headcanon. There's also an element of character perspective at play--this fic is strictly gen, but some characters narrating definitely think that romances are happening, and discuss them. That doesn't mean the fic is going to turn into shipfic. It won't. I don't ship any of the teenagers, I just like exploiting their feelings about each other for angst. (Yes I am a horrible person, no I won't stop.)
> 
> Thanks again to miladyRanger for beta-ing!

That afternoon found Chikage and Ginzou supervising a predictably chaotic sickroom visit.

“Oh my gosh, Kaito!” Aoko gushed, visibly holding herself back from embracing her ‘not-her-boyfriend’ as she stood at his bedside, chocolates in hand.  “Dad was _right_ , you look _terrible_!”

“Gee, thanks, _Ahou-ko_ ,” Kaito replied flatly.  Chikage glared at him, and he ignored it.

“B-but, Dad said you fell down a staircase!” Aoko said.  “So of course you’d look terrible!  It wasn’t meant as an insult!”

“Sorry, Aoko, I’m just a little grumpy right now,” Kaito said. 

“’Cause you hurt, right?” Aoko asked.

“Aw, it doesn’t hurt that much,” Kaito said, waving his hand, hiding a wince at the movement, and then beaming at her.

“DON’T PRETEND TO BE FINE!” Aoko shouted.

“I WILL IF I WANT!” Kaito shouted back—and then winced visibly, because shouting moved his lungs, pulling at his shoulder wound and shifting bruised skin.

“Don’t yell if it hurts, _Ba-Kaito_!” Aoko snapped.

“Well, he seems to be getting energy back,” Ginzou remarked.

“I’m convinced that he and Aoko feed off of each other,” Chikage replied.

“So, the story going around the station, about Hakuba and the staircase—is that really what happened?” Ginzou asked.

“Yep, unless it picked up embellishments,” Chikage said.  “KID wasn’t involved, no matter what anyone says.”  _If I’m lying already, might as well go for broke…_

“He’d better not have been,” Ginzou half-snarled.

“Kaito’s recovering slowly, but he’s here where I can watch over him,” Chikage said.  At Ginzou’s not-too-subtle surprised expression, she added, “And I am staying here until he recovers.  He could’ve _died_.”

_When, exactly, did I start thinking my teenage son was invincible?_ She wondered.  _I thought he was the one who was supposed to be thinking that way_.

“Yeah,” Ginzou said, subdued.  “I guess even a workaholic like me would take some time off, if something like that happened to Aoko.”

“Don’t say that too loudly,” Chikage said, raising an eyebrow.  “She might try it.”

“She’s grown out of trying ridiculous things to get me to stay home from work,” Ginzou said, shaking his head.  “And I’m d*** grateful, too.  I still remember the time she and Kaito got together and nearly convinced me she actually had dengue fever.”

“I locked up the effects makeup better after that,” Chikage said, with a small smile.  _And she may have outgrown the stunts, but you haven’t outgrown forgetting about her.  Kaito told me about her last birthday._

“Anyhow, we’re both lucky, compared to the superintendent-general,” Chikage said.

“Still can’t believe Hakuba _-kun_ just ran off,” Ginzou said, with another shake of his head.  “Also, that his father didn’t know all that s***.  How’s that even happen?”

“The superintendent-general mentioned that Hakuba was adopted while you were telling him all of that, remember?”

“Yeah, and that’s a whole different kinda weird,” Ginzou said.  “Only thing that _ever_ felt off about him was those skills of his.  He… _fit_ , as someone who grew up in a family like the superintendent-general’s, you know?  Old money, lots of rules, a ton of etiquette lessons but maybe not as much time to play with friends his age as he shoulda had.”

Chikage nodded.  _Toichi was always good at crafting covers, but Kaito’s never really had any experience with anything more elaborate than a made-up police officer that has to last a few hours, to my knowledge.  I wonder when Saguru picked up that particular skill set.  I certainly never taught him it._

“It did explain some of his quirks rather neatly,” Chikage said aloud.  “Not all, though.”

“And that’s the other thing!” Ginzou said.  “I always assumed Superintendent-General Hakuba _knew_ about all of the kid’s weird skills.  I didn’t want to poke into my boss’s kid’s privacy, so I never said anything—but did you see him? He was about _grey_ by the time I finished.”

Chikage grimaced.  “It isn’t pleasant, the idea that your child might not trust you,” she said, thinking of Saguru’s cold tone and a face that was an older version of Kaito’s.

“I guess not,” Ginzou said, frowning a little to himself.  “I hope he finds the kid and gets an explanation outta him.  I know I’d like one.”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Kaito wasn’t exactly sure _why_ he hurt this much, which was, on the balance, more frustrating than anything—he landed on his front, and he’d gotten shot in the shoulder, but none of that explained why his lower back was hurting. But it had been four full days, now, and he still felt like a car—no, that wasn’t right, a car wasn’t _personal_ enough—he felt like _Tantei-kun_ ran into him on his skateboard at full speed.  _More than once_.

Up until now, he’d had some bruised ribs and a broken leg; compared to _this_ , those were _nothing_. 

_Being injured sucks_ , he thought.

And then, he thought back to bleary memories of sitting in the interrogation room with his mom— _never again, that was too creepy_ —and watching a tired-eyed superintendent-general wilt as Nakamori stammered through a list of things neither he nor Kaito knew about Hakuba.

_“I guess I didn’t really start wondering about him until after I saw that scar of his_ ,” Nakamori had said.  When Hakuba’s father had looked confused, Nakamori had traced a line along the side of his neck and elaborated, _“Y’know, that big ol’ jagged pink one he’s got on his neck?  I don’t know where he got it, but it’s not shaped right to be from a surgery.  He said it was why he wore collared shirts.”_

Absently, Kaito fingered the side of his own neck, along the line Nakamori had indicated.  Sinew shifted under his fingers, stirred by the faint thrum of his pulse, and he wondered how Hakuba had survived whatever left that mark behind.

According to his mom’s account of her conversation with Hakuba—he’d gotten her to give him a word-by-word recount—they were already past the point in time that Hakuba had travelled back from.  So Kaito wasn’t going to get a scar like that, not unless he got it in a different way.

And the only reason he wasn’t going to get a scar like that was that Hakuba had interfered.

_I can’t just sit around like this,_ he thought, frustrated.  _If I hadn’t nearly gotten killed, he wouldn’t have had to rescue me, he wouldn’t have had to talk to Mom, and he wouldn’t have gotten spooked enough to leave.  Now he’s somewhere out there, probably convinced Mom’s spilling all of his secrets._

_I have to find him_.

_That would be a much easier thing to do if I could, y’know, move_ , he reflected.  Chasing someone involved forward motion, usually, he knew that much from watching the critics, and he wasn’t exactly up to forward motion—or any motion, really—at the moment.  But the longer he waited to go after Hakuba, the harder he’d get to find.

_If the Task Force gives me a ten minute head start, the heist is mine unless they pull off something_ really _good_ , he reflected.  _If I give Hakuba as many weeks as it’ll take me to get back to full strength—I’ll never see him again.  Or if I do, he’ll be wearing a completely different face and I won’t recognize him at all.  I have to act quickly, somehow_.

  _Mom has contacts_ , he thought.  _I wish I had—wait.  Chat Noir!_

His phone was on the floor by the bed.  Carefully, he propped himself on the elbow not attached to the shoulder with a hole in it.  Unfortunately, that shoulder was still black and blue, but he managed at least to get his back onto the pillows instead of his head.  From there, he could dangle his arm off the side of the bed to reach the phone. 

_Ah, bedrest, I am so sick of you already,_ he thought, his arm aching a little as his fingers closed around the phone.  He scrolled through the contacts, finding “Ruby Jones” and then hitting the “call” button.

“Ruby Jones,” came Chat Noir’s crisp tones.  “I’m sorry, I’m with a client, can I call you back?”

“I would prefer not, milady,” Kaito replied, his effort at shifting completely into KID’s vocal range somewhat stymied by the fact that he was horizontal and bruised badly enough that filling his lungs to get to the deep part of his range was…unpleasant.

“Ah, I see,” Ruby said.  “I’m sorry, this is a co-worker on a particularly vital project, I’m afraid I can’t ignore their call.  Please excuse me.” A few seconds later, she’d switched to French, and the harshness of her tone had turned teasing but still sharp-edged.  “And what do you want now, KID?”

“You’re lucky I speak French, you know,” Kaito replied, keeping irritation from his tone.  _And that Mom fixed the pain medication dosage_ , _because I haven’t been practicing French enough since she started travelling all the time._

“Hmph, your accent is atrocious,” Ruby replied.  “But, your reason for calling?  I _do_ have to get back to that client.  Was the information I gave you not good?”

“What information?” Kaito asked.

“Now you pretend forgetfulness?” Ruby asked.  “If this is a game, I’m not interested in playing.  Though…you don’t sound well.  Did something happen?”

“I got injured a few days ago,” Kaito said.  “Nothing you need to be concerned about.”

“That is what you get, when you take such risks,” Ruby replied, tone severe.

“We both have reasons to be in, ah, our line of work,” Kaito pointed out.  “Surely that is worth some measure of risk.  Apart from that, what risks do I take that you do not?”  _Aside from the snipers you aren’t supposed to know about, that is?_

“I don’t go asking about the locations of the most dangerous criminals in Paris, with the intention of seeking them out,” Ruby practically hissed.  “You’re lucky not to be dead, with the stories I’ve heard—”

“W-when did I do this?” Kaito stammered, his stomach churning.

“Not two days ago,” Ruby said.  “Which also begs the question of why you’re calling me _again_.  You still haven’t answered.”

“I’m looking for someone, and I think you’ve seen him,” Kaito said, as realization and pain joined to make him short of breath.  “Mademoiselle Chat Noir, the KID you spoke to two days ago wasn’t me.  It was…a friend, a very _talented_ friend who I’m currently trying to find.”

“The hesitation before you said ‘friend’ speaks volumes to the depth of your relationship,” Ruby said flatly.  “As does his choice to impersonate you, and lie to me.  It may be better for you to attempt to stop caring for this person.  I doubt you’ll find him.”

“Why do you say that?” Kaito asked slowly, carefully holding his tone in check.

“I told you, he was asking about the truly dangerous criminals,” Ruby said.  “I doubt he’ll survive finding them.”

“These criminals….I would guess there’s a group of them, in dark clothing?” Kaito asked, an ugly suspicion forming in his mind.

“That’s correct,” Ruby said.  “They’re to be avoided.”

“Unless you’ve already caught their eye,” Kaito muttered.

“What?” Ruby asked.

“Nothing,” Kaito said. “Where did you send him?  It’s very important that I find him—no matter how dangerous what he attempted was.”

“I met with him in Paris, but they aren’t common there,” Ruby said.  “I mentioned a few cities.  Berlin, Omsk, Reims...those are all places where I’ve found a few too many people in dark trenchcoats for my taste.  I’m afraid I don’t know which one he left for.”

“Did you give him any other information?” Kaito pressed.

“I told him what I’m telling you,” Ruby said.  “Those men and women in dark clothing—those of us who have limits to what we are willing to do avoid them.  If they take notice of you, it won’t end well.”

“Noted,” Kaito said.  “Thank you.”

“I would normally demand a favor in return, but you owe me nothing for such bad news,” Ruby said.  “I told you.  You won’t see him again.”

“Don’t underestimate him, or me, Chat Noir,” Kaito said.  “But I’ll accept your offer of free information!”

“Why, you insolent little—”

Kaito hung up.  He was getting the feeling that the trick to remaining on good terms with Chat Noir was, in fact, not being on _too_ good of terms with her—she’d just get suspicious if he were too civil with her.

Well, at least he had a lead now.  Even if it was not an encouraging one.

_What the h*** do you think you’re doing, Hakuba?_ he wondered.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Kudou Shinichi was having trouble concentrating on his schoolwork—not that he especially needed to, mind, because his so-called schoolwork was coloring in pictures of different animals.

_Not only can I color it in, I can tell you it’s taxonomic rank, though maybe not down to species since it’s a cartoon cat—though if I added appropriate markings, maybe…_

“Conan- _kun_ ’s so good at staying in the lines!” Ayumi exclaimed, startling him out of his bitter thoughts.

“Hah, he’s so good at it he didn’t even notice that school ended,” Genta said, unimpressed.

Shinichi blinked, and looked around, noticing the children around him gathering their school supplies.  Unease prickled at the back of his neck, like it always did nowadays when he realized he’d gotten so absorbed in a case that he’d completely forgotten about his surroundings.

 Before becoming Conan, he’d felt safe in losing himself in cases, burying himself so deeply that he’d even forget to eat until Ran reminded him.  Now, he knew better.  Anything could happen at any moment, and he had to be paying attention and ready to deal with it.

Hakuba’s sudden disappearing act, which also happened to be his current preoccupation, was also just another demonstration of how true that was. 

Shinichi had only absently paid attention to the boy—despite the fact that they were technically peers (shrinking drugs notwithstanding) and in more-or-less the same line of work, they didn’t often cross paths.  He was still a bit unsettled by the fact that he simply couldn’t remember when he’d first heard the boy’s voice, particularly by the part of mind that insisted it had been while he was transforming from Shinichi to Conan.  And he couldn’t completely discount Hattori’s suspicions of Hakuba, either, but he couldn’t act on them when all Hattori really had was a few scattered observations and a sense of wrongness.  So he’d stuck to avoiding the physically-older boy, as a precaution.

_Maybe if I had, I would have seen this coming,_ Shinichi thought, as he gathered his belongings into his schoolbag.

Everyone he spoke to agreed that Hakuba had left of his own will.  If he hadn’t, someone had gone through _a lot_ of trouble to convince everyone, all the way up to KID, that he had.  But something about it was making his instincts shriek in protest, and he’d been trying to put a finger on it all day.

There were reasons that Hakuba could’ve run off.  He was apparently adopted, and no doubt his father wasn’t often home.  He was half-English, and Japan wasn’t as kind to _hafu_ as people liked to pretend it was.  Being a teenage detective itself could wear on a person, mind and soul, Shinichi knew that much firsthand.  All of that could’ve easily built up to the desire to leave.

It made perfect, logical sense, Shinichi reflected as he followed Ayumi and the other Detective Boys out of the school, but it didn’t fit the Hakuba Saguru Shinichi had met.  He was too…focused.  Obsessive, really.  Even after only meeting him a few times, Shinichi couldn’t imagine him leaving his work behind.  He could barely imagine Hakuba taking a voluntary break, for that matter.  So the idea that he’d abandon his life in Tokyo, all the work he’d put into catching KID and building up credibility with the police, just because of routine stresses, however severe…Shinichi couldn’t quite buy it. 

_Something happened_ , Shinichi thought with certainty as they walked outside, into a crowd of increasingly loud elementary-schoolers. 

“Can we go to the Professor’s today?” Genta asked.  “I want to see if he has any—”

“The Professor isn’t going to have any eel, Genta,” Ai interrupted, dour as always.  “But I think Conan _-kun_ is getting picked up by his big sister today.”

“Well, we could go without him!” Mitsuhiko suggested, a little shrilly.

Shinichi winced inwardly.  It was awkward enough when Genta and Mitsuhiko had been jealous over all the attention that Ayumi gave him, but now Mitsuhiko was starting to get upset over how much attention he got from _Ai_ , too. 

He’d been bad enough at elementary school social dynamics the first time through.

“Conan- _kun_!” Ran’s voice called, picking her way through the crowd of children.

Shinichi ran to meet her, absently waving back at the Detective Boys as he went. 

“Hi, Ran _-nee-chan_!” Shinichi said, mixing his own relief with a level of enthusiasm appropriate to a kid his supposed age. 

“Hi, Conan _-kun_ ,” Ran said.  “How was your day at school?”

Shinichi launched into an account of the day’s activities, all babbling and excited gestures, Ran nodding at all the right places as they walked home.

It was the easiest way to avoid contemplating how normal looking up at her had become, or the way the last year had aged her compared to that one picture they had of the two of them at Tropical Land.  When he’d started lying to her like this, he’d expected his time as Conan to last a month or so at most—despite the near-death situation, reality hadn’t set in.

Now that it was clear that this was a long-term situation, though, he was still lying and she was still missing the person right next to her, and it was all so impossibly messed up that he couldn’t even begin to think of how to fix it.

_Best to focus on immediate issues_ , he decided, as they arrived at the detective agency.  _Like making sure my homework’s more-or-less on grade level—and that._

His eyes narrowed as he noticed a dove perched on the edge of the Mouri Detective Agency’s windowsill, partially obscuring one of the _kanji_.  It _could_ be a loose pet, or an albino pigeon, except that Shinichi remembered keeping one of KID’s doves in a box right by that exact window while it recovered from an injury.

He took the stairs two at a time, ignoring Ran when she shouted after him and nearly tripping over one of Mouri’s beer bottles in his race for the window. 

“What do you think you’re doing, brat?” Mouri demanded, startled out of sleep.

Shinichi ignored him too and tugged open the window—a massive effort, at this size—then gently scooped up the dove from the windowsill.

Carefully, he held onto the bird with one hand, and ran the other along its legs, feeling until his fingers brushed rolled-up paper.  He carefully removed it and slipped it into his pocket, then held the dove out to open air.  He thought he felt the feathers brush his fingers when it took off, but that might have been his imagination.

Tugging the window closed, he turned to face a grumpy Mouri and a confused-looking Ran.

“What the heck was that all about?” Mouri asked.

Shinichi let out a nervous laugh without thinking.  “I just thought it smelled a little stale in here,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck.

“So you had to run up the stairs?” Ran asked, hands on her hips.  “I told you before that you shouldn’t do that!  What if you’d tripped?”

“I’ll be more careful on the stairs,” Shinichi promised.  “Can I go to my room now?”

Ran smiled at him a little reluctantly.  “Okay, but do some homework while you’re there,” she said.

Shinichi nodded and dashed off, the note from KID weighing in his pocket.

Maybe he should’ve told Mouri.  Probably, he should have.  But was it _really_ so much to ask for him to have this one thing to himself?  If it was important, he’d tell the police.  But…if it wasn’t something urgent, maybe he’d handle it himself. 

He was really getting to miss his autonomy these days, after all.

He plopped down on his futon, glasses askew, and took out the note.  It was short, typed, and for once not cryptic at all.

_A date, a time, an address, and a KID doodle_ , Shinichi thought, intrigued.  _Why does KID want to meet?_

Well, there was really only one way to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is wondering, Kaito is going to be at least somewhat realistically injured. I’m definitely no doctor, thus the “somewhat,” but this is not a fic where he’s going to be back to action in three days. It’s more realistic and better for my purposes if the physical effects of the last fic’s heist last. 
> 
> For anyone who wasn't aware, 'ahou' and 'baka' are both ways of saying 'idiot'--and much harsher, depending on context--and the puns with the insults and the character's names are used in-canon. I could translate them but I like them like this; they're fun.
> 
> Things are starting to move forward, and next chapter will be Shinichi and Kaito’s first planned meeting (excepting last chapter’s near-disaster as the unplanned one). Please look forward to it!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick reminder that Movie 3 is canon to this fic, and therefore KID does know that Conan is Shinichi. Exactly what else he knows will come up in the text. Anyhow, I’m sure this is the chapter at least some of you have been waiting for, so please enjoy!
> 
> My job may affect fic-posting times, but I’m hoping it won’t cause an overall delay. Still, the worst-case scenario is that the next chapter goes up Wednesday instead of Tuesday.

Shinichi didn’t _know_ KID, really—no one actually knew KID, you couldn’t actually know a mask, much less one that thrived off lies and unpredictability—but he knew about the way he thought and that was enough to make him wary when he showed up at the warehouse KID had indicated in his note.

He was expecting _something_.  He wasn’t sure what, he was very _deliberately_ not sure what, because being _sure_ would end in being _wrong_ and that wasn’t what he wanted.  KID had called him here, KID knew what was going on, KID was taller than a mailbox…KID had the upper hand in most of the ways that counted.  So he just focused on keeping his wits about him and being ready for surprises.

It was near twilight, but the warehouse was in the middle of Tokyo.  If he shouted, someone _would_ hear him.  They had enough privacy to talk here, but not enough privacy that KID could get away with anything.

Light footsteps echoed as he walked across the slightly damp floor; it took him a few seconds to remember that, yes, that was what he sounded like now, and there was no small child following him.  Even after more than a year of being Conan, he still occasionally forgot.

He let out a little huff of frustration, and scanned the warehouse, eyes widening as they landed on the one thing he hadn’t been expecting—KID, undisguised and in full costume, standing in plain sight beside one of the building’s structural beams.

_It’s a trap, somehow_ , he thought, instantly wary.  His hands went for the buttons on his shoe and belt before his brain had fully caught up to what they were doing.

KID’s eyes widened.  “Okay, hands _away_ from the weapons,” KID said quickly, straightening—because, yes, he’d been leaning on that beam, just a little bit.  He stepped back, raising his hands to shoulder level as if in surrender, his smile turning strained as he did.

“See?” He said.  “No weapons.”

_Not even a smart remark,_ Shinichi thought, and then the stiff set of KID’s shoulders registered.

“The injury at the heist was more serious than you let the Task Force think it was, wasn’t it?” he asked, coming out of his crouch.  Attacking KID when he was hurt wouldn’t be right.

KID lowered his hands, one much more gingerly than the other.  The gesture flattened his normal empty smile into an inexpressive line.

“They don’t call you Meitantei for nothing,” he said, slowly.  His face was pale, and he was leaning on the column again, subtly…but not quite subtly enough.

“How bad?” Shinichi asked briskly.

“You think I’m telling you how badly I’m injured?” KID asked, cocking an eyebrow.  The expression was disconcertingly weary.  “No thank you.”

Shinichi felt a twinge of…something.  Hurt, maybe?  He and KID had been allies before, and the flat distrust in the man’s voice stung a bit.

“At least tell me you got medical attention,” he said, a bit more sharply than he really meant to.

“Worried, _Meitantei-kun_?” KID teased, his expression relaxing just a bit.  “Yes, the bullet didn’t hit anything important, and—”

“ _Bullet?_ ” Shinichi interrupted.  Takagi said that KID was _injured_ during the heist, not that he’d been _shot_.  “What the _h***_ was the Task Force—”

“Wasn’t them,” KID cut him off, expression suddenly stony.

Shinichi’s heart decided that this was an excellent time to climb into his throat, because there weren’t a lot of people outside of law enforcement who could get ahold of a gun accurate enough to hit a moving target like KID in Japan, and there were even fewer people who could actually force KID into seriousness.  Unfortunately, Shinichi had an idea about a group that would fit into both categories.

_Please don’t let KID be tangling with the Black Organization,_ he thought, dread surging through him like adrenaline.

“Who was it, then?” he asked, keeping the words steady because KID respected _nothing_ like he respected a good façade.

“That’s—” KID stopped short.  “I was about to say it’s none of your business.  But it’s kind of related, I guess.”

“To what?” Shinichi asked, confused.

“To the reason I sent you that note,” KID said. “Fun as this is, I did _not_ ask you here to discuss my health.”

Shinichi waited, expectant.  Silence was the best way to get information sometimes—especially when dealing with a natural showman like KID.

“The police are never going to track down Hakuba,” KID said.  “Neither will I, by myself.”

“Because you’re injured,” Shinichi guessed, relieved that something in this conversation was finally making sense.

“No, because he’s _terrifying_ ,” KID said, with conviction.

_Okay, what?_ “Have you been talking to Hattori?” Shinichi blurted out, without thinking.

KID looked at him, a bit oddly. 

“Sorry, it’s just that Hattori thinks there’s something off about Hakuba, and—” Shinichi started.

“He noticed?” KID asked, looking a bit impressed.  “Do you think you could get him down from Osaka for this?”

“Maybe if you explain _why you called Hakuba ‘terrifying,’_ ” Shinichi said, with what he felt was admirable patience.

It was like Shinichi had gone for the soccer ball again.  KID suddenly looked just a bit terrified, almost overwhelmed—and this really was the widest emotional range he’d seen on the man so far when their lives hadn’t been at immediate risk.

“Ah, it’s a little hard to explain,” KID said, aborting a motion to scratch the back of his neck and confirming for Shinichi that his wound was somewhere on his upper torso, where such a gesture would pull at it.

“Try.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about Hakuba,” KID said. “There’s a lot _I_ didn’t know about him until the last heist, even though I probably should’ve figured it out before then.”

Shinichi swallowed.  “And what exactly is it, that I don’t know?”

“The face you know as his isn’t his real face,” KID said bluntly.

“He had plastic surgery?” Shinichi asked, not following.  “Is he in Witness Protection?  Is _that_ what this is about?”

“No, _Meitantei_ - _kun_ , the face you knew him with is a disguise,” KID said.  “It’s been a disguise, from the start.” He laughed, the sound horribly brittle.  “Turns out he’s _really_ good at those.  He’s impersonated me twice—first time, he fooled my assistant, the second, the entire Task Force.”

“The heist—that’s why the police thought you weren’t that badly injured!” Shinichi said.  “But—wait, he’s Hakuba _-san_ , he’s been chasing you since he came to Japan, why would he—”

“It’s not really because of me,” KID said.  “I’ll get to his reasons, okay?  For right now, what you aren’t appreciating here is that his normal face has been a disguise this whole time and neither of us noticed.  Not the Moonlight Magician, not the son of Kudou Yukiko.  He fooled us both.”

“So, he’s a secret master of disguise,” Shinichi said.  “That’s confusing, and weird, but not exactly terrifying.”

“We’re trying to _find_ a secret master of disguise,” KID corrected.  “Passing around his description isn’t going to help us much here.  And if that was all it was, _maybe_ it wouldn’t be terrifying.”

“Okay, well, what’s the rest?” Shinichi asked.

“It’s not really just the disguise,” KID said.  “I’ve got good reason to think he learned from the same people who taught me, only so far, the evidence says he’s better at most of it.”

“Learned what, exactly?” Shinichi asked.

“Pretty much everything I know,” KID said, grimacing.  “And then he went and learned detective-ing and whatever else he picked up in London.”

“Everything,” Shinichi repeated slowly.

“I at least know for certain that he’s broken into my house without my noticing at least once, and he can run across roofs if the mood takes him,” KID said.

“What,” Shinichi said, not so much a question as a sort of gasp.

“It threw me too, honestly,” KID said.  “But the important thing is that he burned his identity as Hakuba Saguru over a stupid misunderstanding, so we have to get him back.”

“What kind of misunderstanding scares off somebody like that?” Shinichi asked, in quiet awe.  If he had that many skill sets he’d have taken the Black Org apart—or at least gotten a good start on it—by now.

“He thought Kuroba Chikage—that lady I impersonated—figured him out,” KID said.  “I bugged the interrogation room; seems like he bolted after answering some of her questions about him.”

“She was really curious about him, for some reason,” Shinichi said, remembering probing questions disguised as idle curiosity.  “Maybe she guessed something was up, as well.  Do you want to bring her in, now, too?”

KID shook his head rapidly enough that it almost certainly pulled at wherever that wound of his was.  “Hattori’s different,” he said.  “I’ve met him before.  I’ve got no reason to trust this Kuroba lady.”

“Wait,” Shinichi said.  “If he broke into your house…if he’s been wearing a false appearance for a year and you find him terrifying, _why do we have to go after him?_ ”

KID blinked.  “Well, it’s not like he _means_ to be scarily good at things; you of all people should know about that,” he said.

Shinichi gave a small shrug of acknowledgement.

“And…well, he’s been trying to help, weirdly enough,” KID said.  “Not just that heist.  With the breaking and entering--would you believe that he snuck bulletproof vests into my costume?”

Shinichi stared.  “Seriously?”

“That’s where the, um, people with bullets, from the heist, come in,” KID said.  “I’m not sure what happened there, but he definitely knows about them and he is not happy.  I think I might be in the middle of a fight between him and them.”

“These people, they wouldn’t happen to really like wearing black, would they?” Shinichi asked, stomach churning.

“Some of them, yeah,” KID said.

“We…might have more to talk about, than Hakuba,” Shinichi said, mind racing.  “But that’s for later.  So, he’s been trying to fight them?”

“And I’m in the middle somehow,” KID said.  “He’s been screwing with them during heists, from behind the scenes, and occasionally just plain doing things to keep me alive, but I’m thinking it might just be because I tick them off.”

“So you’re convenient,” Shinichi said.  “Not exactly a reason to want to go after someone.”

KID shrugged.  “He might also care about what happens to me personally,” KID said. “I don’t know.   He gassed me after I got injured so I was easier to transport, and I woke up the next day at home with stitches.”

 “You didn’t even go to a hospital?” Shinichi demanded.

“What, and get arrested?” KID replied.  “Bullet wounds don’t exactly turn up in the Tokyo ER every day; I would’ve been suspicious.  Never mind if they put me on narcotics and I started saying things…”

“Okay, point,” Shinichi said, holding up his hands briefly.  “But still…” One hand drifted to the scar on his stomach.  “Even _with_ hospital drugs, getting shot sucks.”

“Don’t worry, someone got me medications,” KID said with a small wave of his hand—and then froze.  “Wait.  When did you get _shot_?”

“Um, last summer?” Shinichi said.  “It was police gossip for like two weeks; I was surprised you didn’t show up in the hospital.  Probably wouldn’t have helped things, though…Ran was being suspicious and Hattori was being loud…”

“Ran was being…are you telling me you got shot like _that_?” KID said, gesturing with one hand in Shinichi’s general direction.

Shinichi nodded.  “I’ve given up spelunking for life and the Detective Boys are really good at riddles,” he said.  “That’s all you need to know about it.  Anyway, Hakuba?”

“Whatever his reasons, he saved my life during the last heist,” KID said.  “The bullet wasn’t near any organs but it nicked an artery, and I was still under fire—he was the one who got me out.  If nothing else, I owe him for that.”

“There’s more to it, though, isn’t there?” Shinichi pressed.

“Yeah,” KID said.  “It wasn’t just the bulletproof vest.  Not by a longshot.  He’s been protecting me in various ways—maybe just to tick off someone else, but _still_ —since he came to Japan.   The more I think about it, the more I realize how much effort he must have put into it.  But…did Takagi show you the ‘crime scene’ from his disappearance?”

Shinichi nodded.  “All of his identification laid out on his bed.  He might as well have screamed, ‘I’m not coming back’ on his way out.”

“Right,” KID said, smile thinning a bit.  “Pretty dramatic…which, really, is kind of expected from that Inverness-wearing drama queen.  But…he could have faked his death, if he’d wanted to.  And he didn’t.  Because, either he didn’t think he needed to disappear completely, or he didn’t want to.”  KID grinned, wide and sharp.  “It’s the only mistake I’ve caught so far, but there have got to be others.”

That wasn’t really an answer.  The fact that Saguru might’ve wanted them to come after him wasn’t enough to explain KID’s insistence about this, either—but if KID was going to dodge the question with this much dedication, Shinichi was going to let him.  The Shinichi of the past, who ran fearlessly into dark corners of Tropical Land while chasing men in dark clothes and kicked globes at suspects to catch them in lies—he wouldn’t have.  But _Conan_ knew something about standing in front of an enemy, vulnerable, with little more than words and determination on your side.

It was partly empathy, and partly the knowledge that if he really cornered KID, in this position, the counterattack would be _brutal_.  He’d never seen KID not holding back—he’d seen something close a few times, with the Purple Nail and the Kirin’s Horn, but it had always been controlled.  If KID ever decided to launch a full-on attack—well, Shinichi wasn’t really counting on a wound, no matter how serious, to actually slow him down enough to matter. 

“If we’re going to do this, we’re going to need someplace to work from,” he said.  “I don’t think you need me to explain why it can’t be the Mouri Detective Agency.”

“You aren’t using your house at the moment,” KID pointed out.

“Actually, we have a renter,” Shinichi said.  “A grad student…he’d get curious after a while, and I don’t think we’d want him involved.”

“I can lie to a grad student, and so can you,” KID said, dismissive.

Shinichi made a quiet humming sound, pondering his choices, then said, “Well, maybe he’s less a grad student, and more…someone who, if anyone asks you, you should say is a grad student.”

“Oh,” KID said slowly.  “Not someone who could be talked around into helping?”

Shinichi thought about Akai Shuichi, his ruthless streak, and the likelihood that the man would actually believe in the idea of a nonviolent criminal.  “I don’t think so,” he said.  “There’s a possibility, but trying would be taking a risk with the odds against you.”

“Those are my specialty,” KID said cheerily.

“He’s an American and I think he’s still got his sniper rifle, somehow,” Shinichi said flatly.  “They’re pretty bad odds.”

KID sighed.  “Bad odds indeed.  How do you _meet_ these people?”

Shinichi tried and failed to configure the phrase, _We were on the same bus when it was hijacked_ , into something less alarming.  “It just happens,” he said at length.  _Though, thinking about Akai, and people I’ve met…if Hakuba’s really been here on a mission, fooling people, the whole time…I know someone else who knows something about that._

“KID, there is someone else, besides Hattori, who I could call,” Shinichi said.  “He wouldn’t be able to come in person, because he’s in America, but he’s another detective…and he might know more about how Hakuba _-san_ is thinking than we do.  When I met him, he was using his real name and appearance…but he was also lying about what he was doing in Tokyo and why.”

“And you’re still in contact with him?” KID asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“He had good reasons,” Shinichi said.  “He thought Ran’s old man was mixed up with…well, we really need to talk more about those people shooting at you, but probably that same group.  And when he realized that wasn’t what was going on, he spent a while trying to figure out what was.”

“So he was after them,” KID said, expression unreadable.  “Same as you?”

“Not quite,” Shinichi said.  “He was looking for his sister.”

“Did he find her?” KID asked.

“Kind of,” Shinichi said, deliberately holding KID’s gaze.

“Something happened, though,” KID said lowly, grin dimming.

“She’s alive,” Shinichi said.  “And I can’t tell you anything more than that.” KID’s gaze didn’t waver.  Relenting, Shinichi added softly, “He doesn’t know much more than that, either.”

“So he comes to Tokyo, thinking he’s going to be facing down people with guns, lies to you long enough to find his sister, and that’s all he gets?” KID asked.  “I feel a little bad for the guy, honestly.”

_That’s not factoring in what happened to his father,_ Shinichi thought.  _Does—did anyone ever_ tell _him, about that?  But—_

“Maybe, but he’s still a force to be reckoned with,” Shinichi said. “A complete klutz, yeah, a space cadet some of the time, but dangerous enough when crossed.”

 “Isn’t everyone?” KID asked, almost philosophically.  “So, what’s this guy’s name?”

“Hondou Eisuke,” Shinichi said. “Would you like me to call him?”

“If you think he can help and don’t think he’ll call the police as soon as my name comes up, sure,” KID said.  “For some reason, I’m trusting your judgement.”

Shinichi rolled his eyes.  “Don’t worry, I can keep him from calling the police before he hears me out, and he’ll want to help once he hears about Hakuba.”

“That’s a pretty tall order for little Conan _-kun_ ,” KID observed, snickering.

“The height jokes got old a _long_ time ago,” Shinichi replied.  “And he knows I’m Shinichi.”

Surprise was such a rare expression on KID’s face that seeing it was always satisfying.  “He figured it out?”

“I told him,” Shinichi said, forcing a casual tone.

“Do I want to know the circumstances?”

“They aren’t your business,” Shinichi said curtly.  “But, speaking of things he can and can’t know…I think it would be best if we tried to pool information about the group that’s been shooting at you once Hattori’s here.  But we shouldn’t try to involve Eisuke.”

KID’s expression was openly curious.

Shinichi held up two fingers. “Two reasons,” he said, then put one down.  “One, he’s in America, and while we can use video calls and email and the like to involve him in the investigation itself, this group isn’t one you want to be talking about over technology without the means to be sure that no one is listening in.  Getting that for both me and Eisuke would be a challenge, at best.”

“Not impossible, though,” KID said.  “I have resources.”

Shinichi gave him a searching look.

KID moved to hold up his hands in front of him, winced, and settled for an offended expression.  “ _Legal_ resources,” he said petulantly.

“Okay, fine,” Shinichi said, putting up a second finger. “Two, through a set of circumstances I _really_ can’t explain to you, I promised Eisuke’s sister he’d be put into Witness Protection because of what he already knows about these people.  But he turned it down.  The least I can do is keep him from finding out more and getting into more danger.”

KID actually frowned at that.  “Witness Protection?” he asked.  “You’re both in pretty deep, aren’t you?”

“Me and Eisuke, or me and Eisuke’s sister?” Shinichi asked, just to see how KID would answer.

“Either one, really,” KID said lightly, false smile back in place.

“Well, anyhow, I don’t want to tell him more than I have to,” he said.  “So we talk without him.  Do you think we can find someplace for us to meet?”

KID looked troubled.  “I’ll see what I can do.  How do I contact you?”

Shinichi rattled off his number—the one for Shinichi’s phone, not Conan’s.  “Call me with a burner, unless you _want_ to set up a permanent line of communication.  It might not be a bad idea to buy a phone for this case, if you think it’s going to take a while.”

“I don’t know how long it’s going to take,” KID said, and that was a rare spark of honesty in his voice, unless Shinichi missed his guess.  “I don’t know everything that Hakuba’s capable of, but I know he didn’t _want_ me to know, and I know he managed to make sure I didn’t find out.  I don’t like that he pulled that off.  It doesn’t bode well.”

Shinichi didn’t agree out loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now you know how I’m bringing the other detectives into the fic! I hope you enjoyed the verbal sparring match, complete with a fair amount of lying from both sides. 
> 
> Next chapter actually introduces the other two; here’s hoping you enjoy my take on them (including Heiji, as I’ve fleshed out my thoughts on him since RiR). Anyhow, leave a review on your way out if you enjoyed it and would like to let me know.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates may happen at odd hours from now on, since my job seems to like odd shift times. The chapters will still be showing up on Tuesdays, though.
> 
> So, this isn’t gonna be immediately apparent in the text because none of the characters are aware of it, but I do headcanon Hattori Heiji as autistic and undiagnosed, partly because of Ellen Brand’s [Unprofessional Opinion](http://archiveofourown.org/works/363619/chapters/590542), and partly because of my own observations. I will say, I am using “headcanon” in my best understanding of it—I don’t think that Gosho is deliberately writing an autistic character, but I really don’t think that writing him as autistic is writing him as different from canon. As for him being undiagnosed—while Japan’s autism screening system is pretty effective, it’s still full of human diagnosticians and I’m sure that, just as in most other countries, there are people who simply slip through the cracks.
> 
> I have a lot of headcanons about Eisuke too, but they’re more obviously present in the text, so no rambling about them in the A/Ns this time.
> 
> There’s a reference to an anime original case, Episode 303—“The Victim Who Came Back”—in this chapter, but the solution is not going to be spoiled and everything you need to know about it is in the text.
> 
> Thanks for reading; and please enjoy the chapter!

Still riding high on the elation of winning his last kendo match of the day, Hattori Heiji walked out of the dojo and headed for the locker room, only to startle when the cell phone in his gym bag started ringing. 

He started fumbling with the laces on his _kote_ —the long protective gloves he had to wear for matches—rushing more as he realized that was the ringtone he’d set for when Kudou called him on his own phone, not Conan’s.

Somehow, he got one of the _kote_ off and accepted the call, probably just before it went to voicemail.  He was about to complain to Kudou about his timing, but Kudou managed to speak first.

“You were right about Hakuba,” he said flatly.

For just a second, the rare thrill of Kudou admitting that anyone else was right about _anything_ eclipsed pretty much everything else…and then, _what_ he’d said Heiji was right about penetrated, and his stomach churned.

_Please don’t let anyone be dead_.

He cursed aloud.  “What’d he do?” he asked.

“ _Officially_ , he ran away from home,” Kudou said.  “Unofficially…I talked to KID.  And apparently Hakuba rescuing him after he got shot on the last heist and then pretending _to be him_ for the Task Force is part of a _pattern of behavior_.”

More than a little thrown, Hattori took a few seconds to try to jam that new information into his understanding of Hakuba, and failed completely.

“Wha—what kinda pattern, exactly?” he managed after a few seconds.

“One where Hakuba’s apparently been doing things to keep KID alive and safe for a while,” Kudou said.  “And, as near as KID can tell, it’s probably because he—KID, I mean—pisses off a certain group.”

“Ya ain’t tellin’ me…” Heiji started.   _KID and Hakuba are both involved with Kudou’s guys in black?_

“They’re apparently both up to their necks in it,” Kudou said.  “I don’t know exactly how much KID knows or why they’ve taken an interest in him, but, Hattori, he got shot on the last heist and that wasn’t the Task Force.”

“Well s***,” Heiji said.

“Can you come to Tokyo?” Kudou asked.  “KID wants to find Hakuba, I want to figure out how much KID knows and it’ll be easier with you here—he thinks you can help, since you had suspicions about Hakuba from the beginning—”

“What, does he think the guy got kidnapped?” Heiji asked, finally feeling as though he had a handle on the situation again.  “He’s gotta be panicking a little, if he’s asking for both of us in the same city as him.”

“No, he thinks Hakuba ran because he thought he was in danger,” Kudou said.  “And that he’s not going to be able to find him and explain that he isn’t without a lot of help.”

“Kudou, you know as well as I do that if he’s got himself mixed up with that group you’re after, he _is_ in danger,” Heiji pointed out, baffled.

“Not past what he can handle, though,” Kudou replied, tone layered with something that Heiji almost thought was jealousy. “Look, this one gets complicated, and I’m not sure we should be getting into all the details over the phone, but—I’ll say it again.  You were right about Hakuba; there are things about him that are weird and that the rest of us should have noticed.”

Heiji huffed out a laugh, at once annoyed and amused by how well Kudou could predict him.  “So, what you’re sayin’ is, if I want more details, I gotta come to Tokyo.”

“Pretty much,” Kudou said.  Heiji could almost picture his grin.  “So, what do you say, Hattori?  You in?”

“I’ll see when the next train is,” Heiji said, adding a good natured, “Brat.”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Hondou Eisuke toed off his shoes and left them on the mat he’d placed inside the door as a sort of mockery of a _genkan_ —as if a square rug with _cats_ on it was in any way similar to a raised wooden platform for leaving shoes on.  But it was at least a little more like home, and he needed that. 

He’d been in America for months, and his written English was very nearly spectacular…but his spoken was just bordering on adequate, and that meant that things like making friends and acclimating to the culture hadn’t really gone so well.  Apparently, an American-born father wasn’t much advantage—well, Eisuke didn’t even know that for sure, he was just guessing, because his father’s first name was English and he worked for the CIA.  Even though, according to his memory, his dad had always said he’d been born in Sapporo.

But whether his dad was American or not, one thing was certain—Eisuke was _not_.  He could barely manage English, and with no way to make jokes about himself, it had been pretty much impossible to avoid ending up at the wrong end of other people’s jokes, instead—about his clumsiness, his accent, and his occasional cultural mix-ups.  He may have lived here for a while, but he hadn’t managed to make any friends, or get involved in anything…or, really, convince himself that this felt like home.

He wanted to join the CIA like his father and sister before him.  And to do that, he needed to get used to living in America.  But he hadn’t been prepared for this.  When he’d moved to Tokyo, he’d been lonely, scared and confused, but he’d had a plan, he’d made friends and he’d gotten results.  Here, he was lonely and his plan boiled down to _learn the language and graduate_ which was kind of a step down from _figure out whether Mizunashi Rena is your sister or the imposter who killed her and whether Mouri Kogoro is her contact_. 

He wasn’t quite at the point of _hating_ America, but if he gave it a few months…

He dropped his schoolbag on the floor, sighing, and went to the kitchen to put away his lunch box. Naturally, as soon as he rounded the corner, his phone started buzzing.

He was careful to keep the apartment neat, but there was still furniture and he was still horribly uncoordinated, so when he ran for the phone he ended up bumping into the couch, overcompensating for the collision, and falling over—though, fortunately, within arm’s reach of his bag.  He rifled through front pocket, got out the phone, and accepted the call, all while still on his side.

“Hello?” he said, as he gingerly picked himself up.  Luckily, it felt like he’d get away with nothing more than a light bruise on his hip and rugburn on his face minor enough to heal up before school tomorrow. 

“Is it afternoon in America, Hondou _-san_?” Edogawa Conan’s voice asked politely, in Japanese.

In surprise, Eisuke almost dropped the phone, then almost hung up trying to catch it.  He ended up on the floor, cross-legged, as he gasped out, “Yes, I just got home from school,” in the same language.

“Good,” Conan replied.  “I thought I got the time difference right.  Hondou- _san,_ I have a favor to ask.”

That was when it registered that Conan was calling him “Hondou _-san_ ,” not Eisuke _-nii-chan_ , and that the boy’s voice had dropped into a deeper register than the one he normally used.  The tone he was hearing now…this was probably as close to Kudou Shinichi’s tone and inflection as Edogawa Conan ever came.

“Conan _-kun_ , did something happen with—with my sister?” he asked, carefully.

“N-no, nothing like that!” Conan said, seemingly caught off guard.  “It has to do with the group that she’s involved with, but only peripherally.  Most of the reason I’m calling you is because of your investigation, not because of your connection to her.”

“My investigation?” Eisuke repeated.

“When you came to Tokyo, you came up with a bunch of different cover stories to keep your search for your sister a secret,” Conan said. “You got most of the people you met to fall for them completely, and even I jumped to the wrong conclusions…”

Eisuke did a little bit of mental arithmetic based on that statement, then asked, “Did you think I was working with my sister?”

“Yes,” Conan said, after a short pause.  “But, the important thing here is—you know how to do that.  How a person goes about misleading the people around them, including the very intelligent ones, about their true identity and intentions.”

Eisuke hesitated. “Wouldn’t you know something about that, too?”

“I’m not very good at this,” Conan said bluntly, surprising Eisuke.  “I fooled Ran and Mouri, and so did you—but you fooled me.  The first person on my level that I came across after ending up…like this…was Hattori—the police commissioner’s son, from Osaka.  It took two cases together for him to figure it out.”

_The inflection around ‘like this’ was odd,_ Eisuke noted.  _Though…for all that I’ve accepted that Edogawa Conan is Kudou Shinichi, I never really pried into “Why?” or “How?” after he told me.  Judging by the way he’s talking about it, the answers aren’t going to be pleasant ones._

“So, what do you need a person who knows how to lie about who they are for?” Eisuke said.  “Under normal circumstances, that would be a pretty suspicious request.”

“What do you know about Hakuba Saguru?” Conan asked.

“The name sounds familiar,” Eisuke said.  “Wait—no, I’m thinking of Hakuba Tsuyoshi.  Is this Hakuba Saguru related?”

“His son,” Conan said.  “Adoptive, apparently, but that was kept quiet until he ran away from home last week.”

“How old is he?” Eisuke asked, trying to get the facts.

“His apparent age is 17,” Conan said.  “And that’s what his official records say.”  He paused, and took a breath.  “But…the appearance he’s been using, up until now, is apparently a disguise.  A very sophisticated one, but a disguise nonetheless.  This is the part where things get complex.”

“Is he…connected to those people—”

“No,” Conan said quickly.  “Well, not in the way that you’re thinking.  You should be careful what you say about _Them_ , on the phone.”  The word ‘ _Them’_ was emphasized and pronounced carefully, Eisuke noted.  “Hakuba, it seems, has some reason to be going after _Them_ , as well.”

“Alone?  He’ll get killed,” Eisuke said quietly, thinking of how wary the trained CIA agents had been of the group.

“He might not,” Conan said.  “Because, along with his real appearance, he’s been hiding a lot of skills.  You never actually chased KID, when you were in Japan, but you know who he is, right?”

“Of course, I think everyone in Japan does by now…” Eisuke said.  “But, what’s KID got to do with…are you saying _he’s_ KID?”

“No, just that he’s got the exact same skill set,” Conan said flatly.  The sarcasm was really odd-sounding, delivered in a child’s voice.

Eisuke sat back.  “I guess I’ll be doing some research tonight,” he said.  “But even from what I do know…that’s a lot.”

“Don’t worry too much about the research,” Conan advised.  “We’ve got a KID expert.”

“Oh, yeah, right, I remember seeing articles calling you ‘the KID-Killer’ when I looked up Detective Mouri—“ Eisuke started.

“Not me,” Conan interrupted.  “This is the other weird part.  You were willing to lie your way into a hospital and basically trespass in a patient’s room while you were looking for your sister.  This case will involve working with a contact who goes a good deal farther than that when it comes to breaking the law, but who has agreed to be upfront about what he’s doing and why with regard to the case.”

 It only took him a few seconds to work that out. 

“KID?” he asked incredulously, well aware that his voice was rising to a painful pitch.  “Why are we working with _KID_?”

“He’s the person who asked me to look for Hakuba in the first place,” Conan said levelly.  “Hakuba’s on the task force that chases him—”

“And so he wants him _back?_ ” Eisuke asked shrilly.

“Because he saved his life last week, at the last heist.”

Eisuke’s train of thought ground to a halt.

“Well, to be honest, I think there’s more to it than that,” Conan elaborated.  “KID thinks that Hakuba’s motives for saving him were that KID ticks _Them_ off and Hakuba’s been using that…but I think it’s more complicated.  Still, I can’t prove anything and I don’t know for certain that it’s relevant.”

“So KID’s involved too?” Eisuke asked.  “Not just with Hakuba…with, uh…” He tried to mimic Conan’s emphasis, “ _Them_?  Did you know?  Did my sister?”

“I didn’t until I met with him earlier,” Conan said.  “I don’t know if your sister does.  I might be able to find out more about what KID does and doesn’t know later this week, but—”

“If you’re talking about that, I want to be involved,” Eisuke said firmly.

“The phone lines aren’t secure…” Conan started weakly.

“I have some ideas on how to fix that, not that you haven’t already,” Eisuke said.  “If you have the technology to knock Mouri out safely, you have the technology to make a call secure.”

“I do,” Conan admitted.  “It’s not foolproof, because we worked off of open-source code…but a… _friend_ of mine and I played with the code from Ostel and built something that _They_ aren’t too likely to get through.  I can send you the file later.  You should buy a burner phone to put it on, and then download that ISMI-detector app.”

“If you’re this prepared to make a phone call secure, what’s your excuse for not wanting me to be involved in your meeting with KID?” Eisuke said, as much curious as pressing Conan to change his mind.

“Your sister wanted you in Witness Protection,” Conan said, tone fierce.  “This is the exact _opposite_ of that.  Just knowing that _They_ exist is enough to get you killed; if you listen to me talk to KID you’re going to know as much as both of us.  I know enough to die for it multiple times over, and they’ve been _shooting_ at KID.  Hondou _-san_ , is this really what you want?”

“The whole reason I came to this ridiculous country was to join the CIA and follow in my sister’s and father’s footsteps,” Eisuke said, putting some bite into the words.  “I want to be involved in this investigation and I want to know who I’m fighting—who my sister’s fighting!”

“You’re going against what your sister wanted, and there isn’t any going back on it,” Conan said deliberately.  “I won’t take the blame if you don’t like what happens as a result.”

“My choices are my own, I know that,” Eisuke snapped, annoyed.  “I don’t think I need a lecture on responsibility from someone who’s been lying to the girl who loves him for more than a year.”

Dead silence followed his statement.

_Maybe I went too far…_ Eisuke thought, suddenly nervous.

“Maybe I deserved that,” Conan said, a bitter edge to his tone.  “And maybe _you_ deserve a chance to understand the circumstances.  You’re in this as deep as you are already—might as well drag you down the whole way with us.

“But if you want to be involved in this conversation, you’re agreeing to work on the case,” Conan said.  “That means working with KID, who I know for certain isn’t telling me everything.  Well, and Hattori Heiji, but all you have to worry about with him is his loud mouth.”

“Why do you trust KID?” Eisuke said, not agreeing yet.

“The first time we worked together, we broke a dog out of a supposedly-uncrackable safe,” Conan said.  “A while later, while I was chasing him, I picked up one of his doves when it was injured and took care of it…and in return he got me out of a burning building and then impersonated Shinichi for me.”

“So he really likes animals?”

“Well, since then…” Conan sounded embarrassed.  “Since then, he’s helped me out a few more times.  It seems like me taking care of his dove established some permanent goodwill.  Don’t get me wrong, we’re still opponents, I’d still arrest him in a heartbeat, and he’s still more than aware of that, but…he trusts me, for whatever reason.  And I trust him—he’s got his principles, and while I’d rather not stress-test them, I think he has every intention of keeping to them. 

He chuckled softly.  “So when a case KID is involved in goes south, he’ll help me make sure it doesn’t do so violently—and sometimes, when I’m in over my head in something that doesn’t involve him, I’ll get unexpected help.  We each know how the other works, and between the two of us…well, there’s not a lot we _can’t_ handle.  Besides, we’re both good enough to counter each other if an alliance ever broke down.”

“So it’s a kind of mutual respect,” Eisuke concluded.  “But, if you’re calling me for help, now…”

“Hakuba is shaping up to be something that the two of us can’t handle alone,” Conan said.  “KID seems intimidated; it’s creepy. You know more than either of us about the kind of methods Hakuba would’ve needed to use pass as a normal teenage detective, and Hattori’s been suspicious of him from the start.  So, all four of us going after him together is probably our best shot.  Will you help?”

“Yes, but I want in on that conversation about the people my sister is…involved with,” Eisuke said firmly, stomach churning.  He didn’t want to risk alienating Conan, but this was _important_.  “Otherwise, I block your number.”

“Right,” Conan said.  “I really should’ve known better than to try to keep you out of it.  Get that burner phone, and text me the number so I can send you the security program.  I’ll call you on that to set up a meeting time.”

“I will,” Eisuke said, a strange mixture of relief and dread pooling in his stomach.  _I’ve been wondering for months what exactly Hidemi got involved in.  Now, I guess I’m gonna find out._

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Shinichi was with the Mouris, picking Hattori up from the airport when his phone buzzed.  _Shinichi’_ s phone, not Conan’s.  He glanced toward the front of the car, but Ran was still talking with her dad about an upcoming karate tournament, not paying any attention to him or Hattori in the backseat.

The sender was blocked, which by itself was a pretty good indicator of who the text was from. 

“Found a place,” Shinichi read aloud in a whisper.  Hattori peered over his shoulder at the address.

“Looks residential,” he noted, before settling back into his seat.

“Yeah,” Shinichi said.  “Can’t help thinking I’ve seen the address before…”  He scowled at the end of the message.  “How’d he get an emoji of his signature?”

“Prob’ly coded it himself,” Hattori said. 

_“I’ll set up a time with E,”_ Shinichi typed.  _“H is already here_.”

Less than a second later, the phone buzzed, and another message appeared.  This one was a lone KID-grin emoji, which Shinichi took as agreement.

“Sure that meeting place isn’t gonna be trouble or somethin’, since you know the address?” Hattori asked.  “Maybe we should run it against past heist sites, to be safe.”

Shinichi made a “shhh-ing” noise and then, abruptly, remembered where he knew the address from.  “No need.  It was from a case, but not one with KID.”

Hattori raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“The Detective Boys and I found a woman screaming after _she_ found a corpse hidden in a couch,” Shinichi said.  “It turned into a little bit of a circus.”

“How do you find those cases?” Hattori asked, wide-eyed.

Shinichi shrugged. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is the big DCMK-spoiler chapter, so if you need to, please check back to Chapter 1 for what this fic’s gonna be spoiling. I don’t wanna be ruining anything for anyone who cares about not knowing plot twists ahead of time. It’s also the first meeting of this fic’s iteration of the Gosho Boys, which means it was incredibly fun to write. Again, the update will still be on Tuesday but may not be at the same time of day as usual.
> 
> Thanks again for reading, and leave a review on your way out if you’ve got time!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s the Gosho Boy meeting you’ve all been waiting for (or, at least, I know I normally read DCMK fics waiting for this point in the plot). This, gentlefolk, is the chapter with the major spoilers, so go back and read that description in the first chapter of what this fic’s gonna spoil, and make sure you’re okay with it before proceeding. I’m adding a warning for minor Mystery Train spoilers (a case that happens in the 700’s, episode-wise), though all you’re going to find out is a few of the characters who appear, not what they’ll be doing. (Also, thank miladyRanger both for being an awesome beta and for being the reason that I left out the more recent spoilers.)
> 
> There is [art for this chapter](http://ninthfeather.tumblr.com/post/144878863805/steeplechase-sketchdump-2-more-art-steeplechase) on Tumblr; please check it out!
> 
> See the end-note for warnings and an attempt at a list of the cases referenced this chapter.
> 
> Edit 5/30/16: I mixed up some stuff about Anokata/That Person and Rum in the first post of this chapter; don't blame my beta for not catching it since she's not read that chapter. It's now fixed.

The time Shinichi set for the meeting was late evening—early morning for Eisuke.  Ran protested when they tried to leave, but let them go eventually.  When they showed up at the apartment building, there was a teenager that Shinichi vaguely recognized there, waiting for them.

“Ah, Nakamori _-nee-chan_!” he exclaimed, in Conan’s tones.  “Your dad is the head of the KID Task Force, right?  Did something happen?”

“Hi, _Tantei-kun_ ,” the-girl-who-was-apparently-KID replied.

“Seriously?” Hattori asked.

“I’ve used this disguise before, so it’s easy to put together,” KID said.  “I prefer not to wear the costume outside of heists unless necessary.”

“Fair,” Shinichi said, following KID into the apartment building and wondering, again, how they were going to find Hakuba if he was better than _that_.

Sure enough, they stopped at an apartment that Shinchi vaguely remembered running towards after hearing a scream.  It was so normal-looking without terrified witnesses or police congregating around it.

The interior was almost empty—no couch, thankfully—but there was a desk against one of the walls and an unplugged fridge in the kitchen.

 “An associate of mine knows the person who runs this apartment building, and since he’s having trouble renting out this unit, we get to use it for a while.” KID said, taking off his shoes as he looked around, absently.  “It seems nice enough.  Wonder why no one wants it.”

“I don’t,” Shinichi muttered, following the thief in.

“Wait, wasn’t this where—” Heiji started, as he toed off his shoes.  Shinichi was starting to regret telling him the story of what had happened.

KID paled, and Shinichi intervened.  “Uh, Hattori, maybe not—”

“But, I mean, that one case—”

“ _Hattori_ ,” Shinichi said, more firmly, setting his own shoes on the _genkan_.  “I don’t think KID’s interested.”

Heiji glanced at KID’s decidedly green complexion.  “Oh, don’ worry, they didn’t die _he_ —”

“That’s _enough_ , Hattori!” Shinichi interrupted.  “He’s not a detective.  He steals things, he apparently gets _shot at_ , but if he’s ever seen a dead body it wasn’t by choice and I doubt it’s something he wants to think about.”

“Oh,” Heiji said.  He chuckled, nervously, then said, “I, uh, forget sometimes, that not everyone’s surrounded by police officers constantly.”

“I’m pretty sure that if KID was surrounded by police officers constantly, this meeting would be taking place at a prison, so let’s be grateful he isn’t,” Shinichi said.  He waited a beat.  “Prisons don’t have very good wi-fi.”

“You _do_ have a sense of humor but it’s still terrifying; why am I not surprised?” KID said, the words coming out in a rush.

Shinichi rolled his eyes.

KID, meanwhile, turned his attention to Heiji and smiled, then ducked his head just slightly.  “Kaitou KID,” he said.  “I don’t believe we’ve ever met when you’ve known it was me under the mask.”

Hattori nodded back and grinned.  “Seems weird to say it, but good ta meet ya.”

“What, no interrogation?” KID asked, something almost like surprise crossing his expression.

“Nah, Kudou trusts you, that’s good enough for now,” Hattori said.

“Some friend you’ve managed to find here,” KID said to Shinichi.

Shinichi nodded.  “I know it, believe me.”  He glanced at Hattori.  “Thanks for showing up.  Now we’re just waiting for Eisuke.”

“I still think including him makes everything more complicated,” Hattori said, taking off his cap to run a hand through his hair.  “I mean, it’s one thing to share information, but he doesn’t know hardly anything.”

“He knows _They_ exist…and we don’t know what he might’ve heard from his father,” Shinichi pointed out.  “It’s possible that he even knows something useful.  Don’t make up your mind too quickly.”

Hattori jammed his cap back onto his head.  “I ain’t going to, but…geez.  Do you have _any_ idea of what he does an’ doesn’t know?”

“I tried to get a read on it but I didn’t have enough data,” Shinichi said with a shrug.  

KID glanced at him, expression questioning.

“Like Hattori said, depending on what Eisuke knows…this discussion could end up being longer than planned,” Shinichi said, deciding to go with part of the truth instead of the whole, for the sake of Eisuke’s privacy.  “I’m assuming that you’re going to know at least some of what I do, but Eisuke might not.”

KID pursed his lips.  “Could be worse.”

 _It might be_ , Shinichi thought, opting to fiddle with the smartphone Ai had set up for Eisuke to call instead of replying.  It was cobbled together out of older phones, so what official tracking devices remained in it were hopelessly broken.  The screen was cracked and the casing badly scratched, but it would take even the best hacker some time to get into its systems—and that was the point.

The phone rang loudly, startling a curse out of Heiji and making Shinichi jump a bit—though if KID was startled, he didn’t show it.  Shinichi accepted the call and leaned the phone against the wall, then settled on the floor, cross-legged, well in view of the camera but off to one side.

“Good morning, Hondou _-san_ ,” Shinichi said, as KID and Heiji followed his lead and formed a semicircle around the phone.  He wasn’t surprised to see KID taking the place across from him, leaving the one across from the phone to Hattori.

Eisuke yawned, then replied in a voice thick with sleep, “Good evening, Conan _-kun_.”

“Time zones,” KID said, in a sympathetic tone, and Eisuke _startled_ and fell out of the camera’s view.  There was a loud crashing sound.

Hattori and KID winced, Hattori looking alarmed and KID actually looking…well, not completely impassive, which was pretty significant.

“That was KID,” Shinichi said quickly, before Eisuke could panic further.  “Are you all right?”

“Chair fell over,” Eisuke said as he came back into view, his hair mussed and glasses crooked.

KID snickered.  Shinichi glared.

“No, it’s fine, I know it’s funny,” Eisuke said quickly, smoothing down his hair and fixing his glasses.  “That wasn’t a very good first impression.” He took a breath.  “My name is Hondou Eisuke.  It’s good to meet everyone.”

“Hondou _-san_ , this is Kaitou KID,” Shinichi said, gesturing toward KID, “though he’s disguised as the daughter of the head of the KID Task Force right now.”  He gestured to Hattori.  “And this is Hattori Heiji, a high school detective from Osaka.”

“Ran _-san_ mentioned you,” Eisuke said to Hattori with a nod.  He turned in KID’s “direction.”  “And of course, I’ve heard of you.”

“Ah, my reputation still precedes me,” KID said, grinning.

“Also, Hondou _-san_ , it’s fine to call me ‘Kudou _-san’_ when it’s a meeting between the four of us,’” Shinichi added.  “Everyone here knows about it, so…”

Eisuke nodded.  “Thank you, Kudou _-san_ ,” he said.

“So, now that the introductions are outta the way, should we get down to it?” Hattori asked.

Shinichi nodded. “Though, there’s one other thing.  Some of what I know, I learned from other people. Some of whom I need you _not to mention outside of this room_.  Do you understand?”

KID looked a bit confused.  “You’re a _detective_ ,” he said.  “I can understand keeping _that_ ,” he gestured at Shinichi, indicating his currently-first-grader-sized body, “ a secret, but—exactly how many secrets _are_ you keeping?”

Shinichi pushed down his initial offense, and understood that KID was asking why a detective was doing something he saw as ‘un-detective-like’—no, why _another_ detective was doing un-detective-like things.  Because Hakuba had been doing things KID didn’t think of detectives doing—and then he’d upended KID’s world view and pulled a vanishing act.

“As many as I need to in order to keep people safe from the group that was shooting at you,” Shinichi said.

“That was— _what_?” Eisuke half-screeched.  “ _That’s_ how KID’s involved?” He turned wide eyes on KID.  “Are you okay?”

“I got shot, so perhaps ‘all right’ is an exaggeration, but I’m not dead,” KID said, expression flat.  Then, he grinned.  “One could almost consider that a win.”

Eisuke’s eyes were wide and worried, but he didn’t say anything else, so Shinichi decided to continue.

“First, there is a person who has defected from that organization who is under my protection,” Shinichi said.  “They are terrified, they are paranoid, but they are also in very real danger if those people get even _one_ piece of solid evidence that they aren’t dead.”

KID’s eyes lit with realization.

 _Right, he was the decoy on the Mystery Train, it isn’t that much of a leap…_ “If you have a guess about who it is, I’m asking you not to tell me,” Shinichi continued.  “Because if I know for certain that you know, I have to tell the person that you know.  And that is guaranteed to cause problems.”

KID frowned.

“Sh—They don’t trust easily, and their methods of determining whether people are trustworthy can be a little extreme,” Shinichi said. “Another source, Hondou- _san_ and Hattori both know about,” he lowered his voice, almost unthinkingly.  “There’s a group of active FBI agents in Tokyo.”

KID raised an eyebrow.  “FBI Agents, _Tantei_ - _kun_?” he asked, a hint of incredulity to his tone.

“They don’t have permission to be here…it’s a group of agents who have various personal reasons to want to go after these people,” Shinichi said.  “I’ve worked with them in the past.  As Conan.  One of them _might_ know I’m Kudou, but he started working with me before that.  I don’t really understand Americans.”

“They aren’t understandable,” Eisuke muttered under his breath.  It was the most frustrated Shinichi had seen him since he’d nearly stabbed his sister—and since he’d been accused of murder between then and the present, that was saying something.  Shinichi was beginning to get the feeling that Eisuke wasn’t enjoying the United States.

KID made a vague noise of assent, which was even odder, given that he was a thief whose trademark line was _in English_ —but there was something a bit hard in his eyes.

Shinichi sighed, then added, “The third source…well, that’s where we can get down to discussing particulars.  There is one member of the group—I’ve heard it called the Black Organization, but I’m wary of using that name over the phone too often, no matter how good our encryption is—one member who seems to think my remaining alive is useful.  So she occasionally tells me things.”

KID’s eyes were narrowed—but in calculation, not suspicion.

“She’s as smart as any of us, at least,” Shinichi said, before KID could get too far.  “And the only people she will protect are me and Ran, because of something that happened in New York when I was still Shinichi.  If I ask her about this, I need to be _sure_ that _They_ know as much about Hakuba as we do—otherwise, I’m just giving her information and endangering him.”

KID frowned slightly.  “Right.”

“She’s someone involved with _Them_ whose real name I know,” Shinichi said.  “Her codename is Vermouth, but her real name is Sharon Vineyard.  Her daughter Chris is a fabricated identity.”

KID was actually staring.  “ _Sharon Vineyard_?” he repeated, tone oddly urgent.

Shinichi nodded.  And then KID’s expression went absolutely flat, so quickly it was almost unsettling.

“She’s an actress, right?” Eisuke asked.

“D*** right,” Hattori said.  “Knows her way around a disguise, too.”

“She could match you,” Shinichi said.

“I don’t doubt it,” KID said tonelessly.  “The name is…familiar.”

_Vermouth has a connection to KID?_

“Familiar how?” Hattori asked, before Shinichi could.

“The person who taught me knew her,” KID said, expression still blank.  Abruptly, he asked, “This…Black Organization, the group that you think is the same one that I’ve crossed paths with, what exactly do they do?  What are their goals?”

“Their goals…presumably, money and power,” Shinichi said.  “Though, they’ve also been researching some odd things.  As for what they do…it’s more a matter of what they don’t.  Extortion, blackmail, corruption of justice, robbery, murder…I’ve seen _Their_ members do all those things.”

Eisuke looked decidedly pale—no doubt wondering what Hidemi was being asked to do as an NOC.  Hattori, having heard all of this before, was still relatively calm.  KID’s expression was still blank…but the stiff set of his shoulders wasn’t entirely explicable by pain.  Something he’d said had struck a nerve.

“Because, you see, the group I’m familiar with is primarily interested in theft and murder,” KID said, deliberately casual.  “And their goals are ones that I really wouldn’t expect rational people like yourselves to take seriously.”

“You’re disguised as a girl roughly my chronological age,” Shinichi said, a bit testily.  “Look _down_ at me, and ask yourself if you’re certain of that.”

“Fair,” KID said.  “But I’m sure there’s some sort of scientific explanation for it, right?”

“Technically, yes,” Shinichi said.  “But it’s made me a little more open-minded about certain things.  Try me.”

“The people shooting at me seem to think that they’re going to find a jewel that grants immortality,” KID said stiffly, clearly bracing himself for laughter.

Heiji giggled nervously.  Shinichi, recalling various bits of what Haibara had said about APTX-4689’s development, didn’t.

“Well, if they’re willing to shoot you over it, the question of whether it’s real is kind of academic, isn’t it?” Eisuke said.

“Okay, he’s got a point there,” Hattori said. 

“My ex-Black Org source did research related to the project she was working on at that island with the mermaid legend,” Shinichi said quietly.

“The one where we found the guy hanging from the—” Heiji started, breaking off when he noticed Shinichi’s glare.  

“Yeah,” Shinichi said, thinking.  “There wasn’t much else _to_ research there, besides those legends about mermaids and immortality.  The wildlife there isn’t that different from the rest of Japan, and field research generally wasn’t a big part of their process unless it was _important_.  It doesn’t make any _sense_ , but…”

Hattori gave Shinichi a long, considering look.

“She said it wasn’t originally meant to be a poison,” Shinichi finished.

Hattori looked away, still thoughtful.

“Okay, so you’re hiding someone who made _poison_ for them, and you’re _okay_ with that?” KID asked sharply.

“She grew up in their organization, it wasn’t as if she had options,” Shinichi replied, his own tone a bit more sharp than necessary.  “And, no, I _wasn’t_ okay with it at first, but she didn’t want to be part of _Them_ anymore and she needed help.  It would’ve been wrong to let personal feelings get in the way.”

“Personal feelings?” Eisuke ventured.

Shinichi sighed, then glanced at KID.  “Do you require more convincing that these are the same group, or can we go straight into the story of how I got involved in all of this?”

KID waved his hand.  “No, no, you’ve made a good case for them at least being related so far, and more importantly, I’ve wanted to hear this since that mess with the Memories Egg.” He paused.  “Though, I’m a little concerned that you felt the discussion of poison was a good lead-in.”

“I wouldn’t call it a good lead-in, but it’s the one I had,” Shinichi said, not quite looking at anyone.  “I was at Tropical Land with Ran, I saw some suspicious men, I followed them, they noticed, and they decided to test an experimental poison on me instead of shooting me.”  Time to find his sneakers very interesting.  “Luckily, I had an atypical reaction.”

“And then one of the people involved in _making_ the poison came to you and you decided to offer them sanctuary,” KID said.  “ _Tantei-kun_.” Somehow, he managed to inflect the title as if it were profanity.

“It wasn’t like I was gracious about it at first,” Shinichi said.  “She wasn’t exactly the best guest either.”

“She’s _scary,”_ Hattori put in.

“But she’s been working on an antidote,” Shinichi finished.  “So far, everything she’s come up with has been temporary, but…if this case ever requires it, Kudou Shinichi can show up for about 48 hours.”

Hattori raised an eyebrow.  “Minus the last half-hour or so when you start lookin’ like you’re gonna pass out.”

Shinichi shrugged.

“So, for the whole time you’ve been involved in this, you’ve been that size?” Eisuke asked.

Shinichi nodded.

“And you had the nerve to tell them to lock _me_ in an empty room?” Eisuke demanded.  “How are you not _dead_?”

“I told you, atypical—”

“Not that, but, _They_ are adults with weapons and an organization and codenames, apparently, and you—” Eisuke broke off.  “Not to be rude, but you aren’t exactly physically imposing.”

“It’s the soccer ball,” KID said simply.  “Now what’s this about being locked in an empty room?”

“It was his FBI buddies,” Eisuke said, a bit viciously.  “I got _dragged_ out of the room, and into an empty examination room.  I spent the next half-hour trying to decipher a German medical journal because that was the only thing in the room besides the bed.”

“Do I need to remind you what almost happened five minutes prior to that?” Shinichi asked lightly, pleased to be off the topic of his attempted murder. 

“You used me as part of a setup, don’t bother denying it—” Eisuke snapped.

“Yes, because otherwise we wouldn’t have been able to talk to her, and we needed to talk to her to execute the plan with the best chance of getting her out of there alive!” Shinichi replied.

“Hey, Kudou, not all of us were there,” Hattori said, annoyed.

“Okay,” Shinichi took a breath.  “Hondou _-san_ , it’s up to you how much you want to share about your situation and how you got involved.  But, if you wouldn’t mind, when I go through the list of codenames I know…”

“That might be a good idea,” Eisuke said.

“The boss of the Organization is only referred to as ‘That Person’ and all I know about them is that when you dial their phone, the touch-tone noises sound like ‘The Seven Children,’” Shinichi said.  “I know that he and his organization have some pull with the police, and possibly members in placed in high positions.  Gin is the one who almost killed me.  I don’t know his real name, but he’s tall, he has grey hair down to his mid-back, and he usually wears a black trenchcoat and a fedora.  He’s the other one besides Vermouth who’s smart enough to match one of us.   His partner is Vodka—the man looks like a gangster movie stereotype, complete with fedora and sunglasses—and he generally relies on Gin to be the brains of the operation.”

“So it’s all alcohol-themed?” KID asked.  “My persistent annoyance goes by Jackal.”

“Just the fact that he has a codename indicates a connection,” Shinichi said.  “Most criminals don’t use them anymore, unless they’re trying to be noticed—like you.  Nicknames are one thing— _yakuza_ have those.  But Jackal is not a _yakuza_ nickname; it’s not going to intimidate anyone just by the way it sounds.”

“That’s a good point,” KID said, looking troubled.

“There are at least two snipers I know of—Korn and Chianti,” Shinichi continued.  “Chianti’s the more bloodthirsty and easier to pick out—auburn hair and a butterfly-wing tattoo under her right eye.  Korn’s an old man; he usually wears a baseball cap and doesn’t talk much.  There's also a highly-placed member named Rum, who has mismatched eyes. Finally, there’s a NOC.” He glanced at Eisuke.

“NOC?” KID asked.

“Non-official cover,” Shinichi said.  “Her codename is Kir.”

“I know more about her, but it’s the same as Shinichi’s sources,” Eisuke said.  “It can’t leave this room.”

KID’s tight-lipped expression indicated that he’d already connected a few dots.  “I understand,” he said.

Heiji nodded, a bit unnecessarily—but, to be fair, while Shinichi knew that Hattori knew about Kir, KID, and more importantly Eisuke, didn’t.

“ _They_ know Kir as Mizunashi Rena, but her real name is Hondou Hidemi,” Eisuke said, looking down.  “She’s working for the CIA.  She’s my older sister.”

“The news anchor, right?” KID murmured.  “If I look for it, I can see the resemblance,”

“She’s feeding information to the FBI and CIA about their movements,” Shinichi said. He thought for a moment.  “And before this goes any further—if you do, at some point, end up in contact with any of the FBI agents who are in Japan right now, she did _not_ kill Akai Shuuichi.  But you shouldn’t tell them that.”

 _Oh, good, now everyone’s staring at me again_.

“Faking his murder was the only way to keep _Them_ from killing her in a fit of suspicion,” Shinichi said, holding up his hands.

“Your _life_ , _Tantei-kun_ ,” KID breathed.

“Seriously,” Hattori added.

“KID, your life apparently involves you with a card-gun against _snipers_ ; don’t start with me,” Shinichi replied.

“But—she’s okay?” Eisuke asked.

“Last we heard from her, yes,” Shinichi said.  “It’s hard to keep in constant contact with the FBI as I am, but they would’ve told me if she’d cut off contact or gotten in trouble.”

“Thank you,” Eisuke said. 

Shinichi nodded.  “The codenames Tequila, Pisco, Calvados, Sherry, Rye, and Irish belong to agents who have either died or are presumed dead by the organization, but you might hear them anyway.”

“Very impressive, _Tantei-kun_ ,” KID said. “As for me—there are occasionally multiple snipers at heists, but the only one I have a name for seems to be the one who holds rank over the others.  His codename is Jackal; he shares a fondness for fedoras with, ah, ‘Gin,’ and has a handlebar moustache.”  He paused, thoughtful. “An evaluation of his competence is a difficult matter.  On one hand, the attempts on my life so far have relied heavily on surprise rather than skill.  And he persists in believing that he knows my identity, while calling me a name I can assure you is not mine.”

His expression flattened completely, as blank as if he were discussing the weather.  Meanwhile, his voice turned chilly.  “On the other, however…he claimed responsibility for the death of my mentor. And that was no mean feat.”

“Over the same jewel?” Shinichi ventured cautiously.

“They wanted KID to steal it for them,” KID said.  He laughed, but there was no humor to it.  “KID, of course, does not steal without returning.  The refusal cost my mentor’s life.”

 _Was his mentor KID at the time, or was he?_ Shinichi wondered.  _The way he’s phrasing things, either could be true…and either way, it’s ugly_.

“So now you want to get to it first?” Hattori asked, eyes narrowed.  “What, exactly, are ya plannin’ ta do with it?”

“The legend I heard from a man Jackal called ‘boss’—certainly not That Person you mentioned, as he was utterly unintimidating—stated that it was a doublet—that the immortality-granting jewel was hidden inside another,” KID said.  A cold, disturbing grin stole onto his face.  “So, I should be able to _smash it to pieces_ —and still return the jewel it was inside,” he finished, dark tone turning cheery.

“No interest in immortality, then?” Eisuke asked.

“That thing has only brought misfortune,” KID said, still all forced cheer.  “I don’t see why it should continue to exist if people are going to be killed over it.”

 _Well, it’s far from the worst response I’ve seen to the death of a mentor figure,_ Shinichi thought.  _Though I think the worst response I’ve seen was a serial killer, so my experiences might not be the best metric._

“I appreciate that you were willing to tell us this much,” Shinichi said.  “But…about this ‘boss’…even if he’s not That Person, he might still be someone in that organization.  Could you describe him?”

“…he looked a little bit like a villain from a low-budget period drama set in the Heian, actually,” KID said, looking off to the side.  “Short, fat, balding, thick eyebrows, small moustache…he was even wearing traditional clothing.  If you ever wanted to do something slightly dangerous, I might be able to find his house again…but last time I was there, I got shot at a lot, so I’d feel better if everyone was full-sized and wearing Kevlar.”

“That might be able to be arranged, but Hakuba _-san_ is the priority and I’d feel better if we had a plan beyond ‘Go in and make a mess,’” Shinichi said.

Hattori rolled his eyes. 

KID snickered.  “You’re supposed to be the detective, here, Tantei _-han_ ,” he said.  “At least pretend you like following rules.”

“I like followin’ rules fine, I jus’ also like—” Hattori started.

“Hattori _-san_ , how did you get involved in all of this?” Eisuke interrupted.

“I went lookin’ for Kudou, found ‘im, and then figured out what happened,” Hattori said.  “Since then, I’ve been helping him out where I can, but I’ve mostly been in Osaka for the big stuff.”

“Still, he’s the reason I figured out who you and your sister were, and that the Mah-jongg Serial Killer case didn’t turn out worse than it did.”

“I heard about that!” Eisuke said.  “That was these people?”

“No, the killer was just a killer, but one of their members impersonated a police officer during the case because one of the victims was one of _Them_ ,” Shinichi explained.  “I had a chance to talk to the infiltrator because Hattori helped me solve the case.”

“You still need to come get _okonomiyaki_ with me,” Hattori said.

“Oh, yeah, right,” Shinichi said.  “That restaurant you mentioned?”

“Yep,” Hattori said.  “I’ve been waiting until you could come with me to go.  Kazuha’s pretty ticked off about it.”

Shinichi laughed softly.

“Well, it seems like we’ve gone over everything,” KID said.  “I can start explaining how Hakuba ties into all of this, if you want…”

“Not quite,” Eisuke said, voice pitched to carry, even over the phone’s less-than-high-quality speakers.  “There’s a question I have that I think Kudou _-san_ knows the answer to.”

Shinichi felt his stomach twist.  _Please, don’t be the question I think it’s going to be_.  “Yes?”

“At the hospital, you told me that my sister _and_ my father were CIA agents,” Eisuke said.  “Did you find anything out about where he is?”

Shinichi swore mentally.  “…Didn’t the CIA agents you talked to say anything?”

“No,” Eisuke said.  “They just wanted to talk about Witness Protection.  If I tried to bring anything else up, they changed the subject.”

Shinichi glanced at Hattori, who looked as panicked as he felt.  He could feel KID’s eyes on the two of them, no doubt surmising that they did know something.

 _We can’t_ lie _to him, but—_ Shinichi thought, stomach churning.

“You don’t want to hear this from me,” he found himself saying.

The video flickered, slightly, but Eisuke’s gaze never wavered.  “I want to know,” he said. 

Shinichi wasn’t a police officer, he _wasn’t_ , and he didn’t want to be…but he’d given notice of people’s deaths before.  Usually just by saying “They’re dead,” because said person was on the ground in a pool of blood in front of him.  But…he’d also been with officers when they’d told suspects about deaths after the fact.  In theory, he knew how to do this.

“I’m sorry,” he said, doing his level best to meet Eisuke’s eyes because the other boy deserved _that_ , at least. “Hondou Ethan died…I don’t know exactly when.  But a few years ago, protecting your sister, his daughter, from being exposed as a spy.”

Eisuke just stared back at him, for a few seconds, then choked out a sob.  “I—I’m just going to…I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?” he said, voice slightly thick.

“Okay,” Shinichi said.

Eisuke dashed offscreen.  There was a soft thump, some loud and surprisingly creative cursing, and…well, if Shinichi could hear crying it wasn’t his place to comment.  If Eisuke wanted privacy, he’d have it.

“F***,” Heiji said lowly, after a few seconds had passed.

Shinichi hummed in agreement but didn’t quite know what else to say.  Across from him, KID was expressionless, but his face was bone-white under the makeup.  Shinichi could practically pick out which parts of his face _were_ makeup and which were facial prosthetics.  It was a little creepy, honestly.

They passed the next few minutes like that—Heiji occasionally swearing softly, Shinichi saying nothing at all, and KID pale as plaster and not regaining a shade of color.  Finally, Eisuke returned to the phone’s screen, eyes bright and cheeks rubbed raw.

“I…I kind of thought, that you might say something like that, but I guess I wasn’t as prepared as I thought I was,” Eisuke said quietly, his voice rough.

“I don’t think it’s possible to be prepared for something like that,” KID said, tilting his head forward so that the lighting hid his expression.  “You have my condolences, if you would accept them.”

“Thanks,” Eisuke said, a little shakily. 

“Mine too,” Hattori said. 

Eisuke nodded.  “It’s just, um, a lot.  Though, I guess, if he was protecting Hidemi- _nee_ , it’s…that’s a thing that’s important to him.  Was important to him.”

“Could you be available this time tomorrow, to discuss the case?” KID asked, face still obscured.

“Y-yeah,” Eisuke said.  “That might be better.  I-I’m gonna need some time to, uh, clean up, before school.”

Heiji swore under his breath.  Shinichi spent a few seconds trying not to be angry at himself and then gave it up for a lost cause.  KID finally looked up.

“Then, I suggest we adjourn for the night,” he said.  “Thank you all for coming.”

And then, with absolutely no warning other than a sharp _crack_ , the room filled with pink smoke.

“Did the camera break?” Eisuke shouted.  “Are you still there?”

“KID set off a smoke bomb,” Shinichi replied with a cough.  “He apparently didn’t want us to see him leave.”

“Yeah, so, meeting’s over,” Hattori said, waving at the smoke around him.

“You know, you could probably explain some of this to your school, if you didn’t want to go in today,” Shinichi said, picking up the phone Eisuke’s image was displayed on.

Eisuke was clearly forcing his smile.  “But my father was a deep-cover CIA agent,” he said.  “So if they decided to check, I’m sure they’d just be told he’s on a business trip.”

 _He’s right,_ Shinichi realized, chilled. _If the CIA agents didn’t tell him, he might not even have proper clearance to know about his father’s death, and his principal definitely doesn’t._

“I’ll be fine,” Eisuke said firmly.  “KID’s very good at keeping his expression blank, but he’s not the only person who knows things about acting.”

“Hondou _-san_ , that’s not reassuring,” Shinichi said, a little desperately.

“Don’t worry about me,” Eisuke said, wearing the fake smile again.  “You’ll make Ran _-san_ worried, if you do, and then I’ll have to get angry with you.”

Shinichi blinked, not sure if Eisuke was being serious or not.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Eisuke said, and then hung up.

Hattori had opened a window, and the pink smoke was quickly dissipating. 

“He concerns me,” Shinichi said.  “Just, in general.”

“Yeah, me too,” Hattori said with a nod.  He paused, then gave Shinichi a searching look.  “Wait.  Are we talking about Hondou, or did we go back to KID?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for discussion of past canon character death, grieving, and a veritable parade of bad coping mechanisms. Ah, these dorks.
> 
> The last bit of this chapter was inspired by my impatient wait through the Clash of Red and Black for any indication of whether Eisuke knew his father was dead. Canon never gave me a darn thing, so I ficced about it.
> 
> Here’s an overview of cases being referenced—not a comprehensive one, but the ones most likely to be relevant. I am not doing this on a regular basis but this is the infoheavy chapter so might as well go with it. The murder in the apartment was discussed in last chapter’s notes; “the case with the mermaids is “And Then There Were No Mermaids”/ The Mermaid’s Curse case, from chapters 279-283/episodes 222-224 of DC. The Mah-Jongg serial killer is from movie thirteen. The Clash of Red and Black spans volumes 56-59 and episodes 491-501 and contains all of the information about Eisuke included here, in the form of choppy flashbacks and/or cutscenes interspersed through other plotlines. The Mystery Train is chapters 818-824/episodes 701-704 (for reference, while I am letting the timeline in this fic be very vague, The Mystery Train is probably the most recent major plot arc in DC-world that had already happened when this fic came in and stepped all over the timeline). As for MK, Kaito is mentioning the “boss” from MK 1412 episode 2, “Blue Birthday,” specifically.
> 
> By the way, a quick note on characters I didn’t include, specifically, Sera Masumi and Tooru Amuro, both of whom technically exist by now in the fic timeline and both of whom are well-liked. Sera has a legitimate canon reason to really dislike KID that I would need to either have not happen or have other characters talk her down from in order to make the fic work. The former option feels cheap, and the latter would be inordinately time-consuming. On a meta level, her character hasn’t been fully explored in canon, and I’m wary of making someone who Gosho is clearly storing up mysteries about a central character in a fic like this one. As for Amuro, it’s mostly a matter of spoilers—there are too many gorram chapters of this series, and a lot of people who want to read (or for that matter, write) this fic haven’t read all of them. While including the Mystery Train isn’t a huge spoiler, Amuro would be, and I’d rather this fic be accessible to people who are still largely in the 500’s or so. Surprisingly, despite my Tumblr rants about him, I wouldn’t mind writing him in otherwise—characters I dislike can be fun to write, especially if I can use an AU as a chance to write them better.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and let me know what you thought of how I had these Gosho Boys meet!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting times will stay irregular until my boss decides to stop switching my shifts back and forth (so maybe until I get a new job or finish the fic, whichever’s first?). Also, after last chapter, I’ve made a decision--no more listing what DC or MK chapter everything is from. I’ve found it helpful in other people’s fics, and I admire anyone who can do it consistently, but that was a lot of extra trouble for pretty much no payoff, so—if any of you see anything in the chapter and want to know when it’s from, just ask in a comment/review/tumblr ask, okay? Otherwise I’ll assume you either all know, or don’t need the information.
> 
> I’ll be posting some sketches for this chapter on Tumblr this week, so check them out if you’re interested!
> 
> See the end note for this chapter’s (very light) warnings, and some extra notes.

Heiji had a day of putting up with Sleeping Kogoro and poor Ran’s admirable attempts at getting the guy to behave like he actually had guests over before the next meeting with KID.  He and Kudou didn’t talk much about it, mostly because the Mouris kept hovering, but Heiji could practically feel Kudou radiating guilt over what had happened with Eisuke.  Heiji wished he knew a good way to tell him to stop blaming himself, but he wasn’t always the best with words in situations like these.

Still, he made his best effort when they were just about at the apartment for the meeting.

“It ain’t your fault, you know that,” he said.

“What isn’t?” Kudou asked. 

His expression said that he absolutely knew what Heiji was talking about, but he was going to make Heiji say it.  Heiji was not, as a rule, great at reading people, but he was used to Kudou—and this particular expression of his was one that Heiji ended up against annoyingly often.

“Ya didn’t kill Hondou Ethan, and it ain’t your fault Hondou _-han_ ’s upset ‘bout him bein’ dead,” Heiji said.

“I know I didn’t kill anyone,” Kudou replied, anger coiled up in his tone.  “But if I’d said it differently—”

“Would it’ve made him less dead?” Heiji interrupted.

Shinichi glared.  “No, of course not—”

“Then it really wouldn’t’ve helped,” Heiji asked.  “He wasn’t upset at your tone of voice, _ahou_.”

Shinichi sighed.  “I guess you’re right.”

He stepped up to the door of the apartment building, and they walked the rest of the way in silence—but at least it wasn’t so _tense_. 

The two of them took off their shoes and joined KID inside.  The phone they were using to call Eisuke was still where they’d left it, plugged in but turned off.

Kudou turned it on and checked it.  “Seems like we didn’t miss his call,” he said.

“Good,” Heiji said.  “Why do ya think KID ain’t here yet?”

Kudou gave a small shrug.  “He’s usually _exactly_ on time, so this is strange—“

The phone rang, and Kudou quickly picked up the call.  “Hondou _-san_?”

“Hello, Kudou _-san_ ,” Eisuke said, smiling.

Shinichi looked unnerved for all of two seconds before smiling back.  “Hello.”

_Well, if that’s how he wants to play it, we can pretend nothin’ happened_ , Heiji thought.  “Hey, Hondou _-han_.”

“Where’s KID?” Eisuke asked, confused.

“Sorry I’m late!” exclaimed a member of the KID Task Force in KID’s voice, as he burst through the apartment’s front door.

“Always with the dramatic entrances,” Kudou half-groaned.

“Hello, KID!” Eisuke said.

“Hello—huh, you don’t have a nickname yet, I’ll have to figure that out eventually,” KID said. 

“He moved to the US to join the CIA,” Kudou said, wearing the grin he only got on his face when he knew he was going to get away with something.

“CIA-trainee _-san_ is awkward, though,” KID complained.  “Spy- _san_ , maybe?  Yeah, that’ll work.”

Eisuke looked more dubious but KID didn’t give him a chance to protest. 

“Sorry I’m late, I had to drop by my hideout,” he said.

“You have a hideout?” Heiji repeated.  “Seriously?”

KID regarded him flatly.  “I don’t exactly keep KID’s stock of sleeping gas bombs around my house where guests can see them.”

“Still, you could try a little harder not ta seem like yer some sorta supervillain,” Heiji huffed, frowning and leaning back on the wall, arms crossed.

“I’ll be sure to,” KID sniffed.  “In the meantime, let me show you what I found there.” He dropped a nondescript duffel bag on the apartment’s carpeted floor.  It landed with a surprisingly heavy thud, and Heiji didn’t quite manage not to jump.

“That’s Hakuba’s,” Kudou said, voice slightly hushed.  “He was keeping it there?”

“The _h***_ was he doing in yer hideout?” Heiji asked.  “All I know about all o’ this is that him pretendin’ ta be you on a heist wasn’t outta character, an’ that Kudou admits I was right to be suspicious of the guy.  A little explanation would be good.”

“Kudou- _san_ was a bit more forthcoming with me, but I’d rather hear things from the source,” Eisuke put in.   

“I’ll tell you what I can,” KID said, sitting down on the floor near the bag.  “But I don’t know as much as I’d like.  And what I can tell you isn’t going to fit together very well.”

“Well, get on wit’ it,” Heiji urged, earning himself a jab in the side from Kudou.

“The first odd thing that happened occurred not long after I restarted KID heists,” KID began.  “I maintain a few identical suits, in case of accidents, and one day I came to my hideout to find that every single one now had Kevlar lining in the jacket.  It wasn’t until much later that I learned that I’d asked my assistant to add the same lining to any suits made thereafter.”

Hattori blinked.  “An imposter?”

KID nodded.  “Hakuba,” he said.  “The evidence is here.”  He unzipped the duffel bag, revealing white cloth.

Heiji glanced at Kudou.  “I’ve got forensic gloves in my bag if we need ‘em, but this is all three different kinds of inadmissible anyhow, and you already ID’d it as Hakuba’s bag.”

“We aren’t trying to arrest him,” Kudou said practically. “We can go without the gloves.”

Heiji was privately glad.  He’d never really liked the things, they felt weird and interfered with getting clues from the texture of stuff—but, of course, murderers getting away was undeniably worse, so he normally put up with the d*** gloves regardless.

Carefully, Heiji pulled out the fabric, and found what he’d been expecting—a perfect replica of KID’s white silk suit, lined in what Heiji was pretty sure was top-grade Kevlar.

“Ya said he impersonated ya,” Heiji said slowly.  “But…this don’t look like the KID cosplays I’ve seen people showin’ up to heists in.”

“No,” KID said.  “The cosplayers at heists deliberately get details wrong.  Nothing like having your hard work destroyed because seven police officers jumped on you at the same time, or so they say on the forums. There's a warning, now, to new fans, that they ought not to make their costumes _too_ accurate.”

“I can’t imagine they line them in Kevlar, either,” Eisuke remarked.

“No, that was Hakuba,” KID said.  “He did that to all of my suits.”

Kudou didn’t look surprised, but Heiji found his shock mirrored in Eisuke’s expression. 

“How, exactly?” Eisuke asked.

“He broke into my hideout, sewed Kevlar into every costume I have—except maybe that one, he may have waited until he got it home—and left,” KID said.  “And, as I said, he later impersonated me, spoke with my assistant, and asked that all future suits be similarly protective.”

“Yer kiddin’,” Heiji said flatly.  “You honestly expect me to believe that Don’t-Break-the-Window-You’ll-Contaminate-The-Crime-Scene- _san_ broke into your hideout and stole yer stuff?”

“You believed he impersonated me during the heist,” KID said, sounding a bit uncertain.

“That made sense,” Heiji said, spreading his hands apart as though it would somehow divide the bizarre new information from the parts of the case that made _sense_.  “He’s obsessive about ya, it’s like the time-announcin’ thing but worse.  I wouldn’t put it past him to do somethin’ like that jus’ to make sure ya stayed alive to catch.  But this is premeditated, ya get it?  He’s lookin’ out for ya, for some reason, and he expected it to go far enough that he’d need to play KID again.”

“Otherwise he wouldn’t have kept it,” Eisuke added. “There was always a risk you’d notice.”

“His timing was good for that; I _wasn’t_ sure how many suits there were supposed to be in there and so I didn’t miss the one he took,” KID said.  “There’s evidence beyond what I’ve told you so far for you being right, but I’d rather you looked at the evidence here first.”

“Are ya screwin’ wit’ us, somehow?” Heiji asked suspiciously.

“No, but I’ve come to my own conclusions about some things and I’d rather see how yours match up than tell you directly,” KID said.

Heiji frowned.  “D*** annoying, but good practice,” he said.  “So, he had a suit.  Kudou, when’d you say you saw him carryin’ a bag like this at a heist?”

“It was…four months ago,” Kudou replied. “But we can’t be certain that the suit was in there back then.”

“Ya got a point,” Heiji said.

“What else is in the bag?” Eisuke asked.  “With how heavy it sounded, just the one suit couldn’t—”

“The suit’s got a glider built into the cape,” Kudou said.  “Which is further proof that it’s really one of KID’s, but also probably the reason that the bag’s so heavy.”

He reached into the bag and pulled out a Styrofoam container, balancing it on his knees as he hooked tiny fingers under the top section and pulled it away from the bottom.

“I’ve never actually _seen_ your smoke bombs, but I’m guessing this is what they look like?” he asked, glancing over the two rows of smooth plastic spheres packed into the casing.

“Those might be the sleeping gas ones, actually,” KID said.  “Be careful.  I have a system for differentiating them; I don’t know if Hakuba does.”

Gingerly, Kudou set the container on the floor.

“And even if he did, how would you know what it meant?” Eisuke asked.

“That too,” KID allowed.

“What’s next, a lockpickin’ kit?” Heiji wondered aloud, reaching into the bag. 

His hand immediately found fabric—thick, slightly textured, and soft enough that it _had_ to have been expensive.

“Think he was keeping a change of clothes in here, too,” he said, pulling out a wad of fabric—tan dress slacks, it looked like, wrapped around a wadded-up cotton shirt.  It didn’t exactly fit with Hakuba’s fastidious reputation—but then, tonight was full of surprises.

And then he tried to un-wad the shirt, and found he couldn’t, because it was pasted together with what Heiji immediately recognized as dried blood.  Just the attempt to separate it sprinkled a powder of red-brown dust over Heiji’s jeans. 

“The f***?” he asked aloud.

“The blood’s mine,” KID said mildly.  “I’m told Hakuba was carrying me for a while, I suppose I bled on him more than I realized.”  He paused.  “I trust you won’t take advantage of the opportunity.”

“Of course not,” Kudou said, frowning.

“Cotton’s absorbent,” Heiji said lowly, running a hand over the twisted-up fabric and the crusted areas that held it together.  “Like, really absorbent.” He looked up, and caught KID’s eyes.  “How bad were ya bleedin’?”

“My assistant informs me I avoided needing a transfusion,” KID said.  His shoulders slumped, just slightly, after a few moments passed and Heiji’s gaze didn’t falter.  “Narrowly.  I avoided it very narrowly.”

“So he really did save your life,” Eisuke said.

KID didn’t respond.

“Hondou _-san_ ’s right—if you came that close to needing a transfusion, and you’d stayed wherever ya were—you’d’ve either died o’ blood loss, or after whoever was shootin’ at ya realized they’d disabled ya and closed in ta finish the job, whichever happened first.” Heiji frowned.  “You ever had a call that close before?”

KID frowned, chin jutting out slightly.  “I’m not sure I want to tell you that.”

“No, I think I see what Hattori’s getting at,” Kudou said.  “Have you ever gotten close enough to dying that Hakuba would feel he had to intervene, up until now?”

KID looked thoughtful.  “No—well, not exactly.  I wasn’t in danger of dying, but...there are some other times that he probably interfered.”

Kudou leaned forward, eyes narrowed.  “When?”

“Well, never when you were around, for one thing,” KID said.  “Beyond that…it wasn’t _just_ me he was trying to protect.  There was a heist on a train, and Jackal tried to take the son of the jewel owner hostage…Hakuba beat him up for trying.  The kid thought Hakuba was my assistant—I don’t know if Hakuba said that he was or if the kid just decided that’s what was going on.  He was a precocious little brat.”

“If Hakuba was close enough to that sniper to beat him up, why not arrest him?” Eisuke said.

“Technically, he’s not police,” Kudou pointed out.  “And if he was protecting the child, he might have had to choose between doing that or trying to subdue the criminal.”

“There was another incident you _won’t_ believe me about,” KID added.  “But..it wasn’t—I wasn’t going to die.” He didn’t quite meet anyone’s eyes, suddenly uncomfortable.  “It was, ah, well—you really won’t believe me, if I tell you what he stopped happening, and it _didn’t_ happen anyhow, so, it’s really pretty irrelevant.”  He laughed, high and nervous.

Heiji wasn’t sure what he was trying to avoid, but anything that could freak Kaitou KID out that much couldn’t have been pretty.

“Oh—and he generally tried to stop other thieves from interfering with heists,” KID added.  “It apparently worked on Corbeau, since they kept leaving notices but I never actually saw them and neither did the police.” Then, he visibly shuddered.  “Didn’t work so good with Nightmare.”

“Nightmare?” Heiji asked.

Shinichi frowned in concentration.  “That was the thief Interpol came in to chase, right?”  he said.  He frowned.  “Division One got called in after the heist was over, I know that much, but they wouldn’t talk about it.”

KID looked at him for a few seconds, then shuddered again.  “To you, they wouldn’t,” he said softly, his eyes shadowed.  “Especially if Kenta _-kun_ was still _there_ when they showed up…it was ugly, _Tantei-kun_ , and I wish I’d been able to stop it.”

He shook himself, slightly, and then added, “I left a glove, at the scene.  But it never made it to forensics.  I’m almost certain that was Hakuba, too.”

_So, apparently whatever happened with Nightmare shook KID bad, bad enough that he not only left evidence at the scene, but still can’t talk about it without reacting,_ Heiji thought, as he watched KID force a faint smile back onto his face.  _Interesting, but not relevant_.  _Focus on the case_.

“So he might have saved your life at least one other time,” Eisuke said. “If _They_ are trying to kill you, what would happen if the police got your DNA and made an arrest?”

“If I was lucky, no one in forensics would be on their side, and I wouldn’t get killed until after I was arrested,” KID said, voice utterly level.  “But I don’t doubt that they’d kill me, if I didn’t manage to run before the arrest.”  He paused.  “I hadn’t really thought of it that way.”

“Evidence suggests Hakuba did, an’ it’s why ya didn’t have to,” Heiji said.  “Fightin’ off yer Jackal, anticipatin’ Corbeau, hiding that evidence—all of it took a lot of predictin’ what people would do, sometimes a couple o’ moves ahead.  That’s pretty impressive.”

“He failed with Nightmare, though,” Kudou pointed out.

“I’m not sure there _was_ a way to succeed,” KID said, tipping his head forward to let the bangs of his disguise shadow his expression.  “Nightmare had something that he valued more than either his own life or anyone else’s.  You—you can’t reason with someone, when they’re like that.”

“Sometimes you can,” Kudou said slowly. 

KID’s head jerked up, his mouth a tight line, his eyes blazing, every inch of him absolutely _rigid_.

Kudou held up a hand.  “Sometimes you can.  But you need the right circumstances, and training, and usually a bit of dumb luck.  I don’t think you had _any_ of that.”

KID sat back slightly.

“I’ve been in a lot of standoffs with people who were too desperate or too far gone to care who they hurt,” Kudou said.  “You either have to get really lucky, or know _exactly_ what you’re doing and get lucky on top of that.”

KID nodded a little.  “Neither of us were the first one to try to talk Nightmare out of something,” he said. “The other attempts failed even more spectacularly than ours, so I guess we got lucky in that sense.”

Heiji was ready to ask another question, but Kudou kicked him in the shin.  At this rate, he was gonna have a permanent bruise there.

“Okay, so he was definitely protecting you,” Eisuke said.  “Do you know why?”

“I have a theory,” KID said cautiously.  “ _Tantei-kun_ ’s heard it, but I’d like to know if either you or _Tantei-han_ have come up with anything different.”

“Kudou _-san_ told me your theory,” Eisuke said.  “I think it has potential.  But there’s a chance that it’s not accurate, since the evidence for it is pretty limited—it’s mostly that it makes sense in context.”

“I don’t know what this theory is,” Heiji said.  “I’m guessing it’s something like KID messes with _Them_ so he wanted to keep ya alive—but that doesn’t explain the kid he protected, or the times you weren’t in mortal danger.  If there’s a personal connection between you an’ Hakuba, you’ll never tell us, an’ I don’t blame ya, but that would make more sense.”

KID frowned.

“How important are Hakuba’s motivations here?” Eisuke asked.

“Well, we need to know exactly what’s enough to make him break laws,” Kudou said.  “That could be useful in tracking him.  Especially since he’s not going to look like himself--that’s the other important thing you haven’t brought up yet.  You said that his appearance as Hakuba Saguru is a disguise.”

KID nodded.

Hattori narrowed his eyes.  “The _f***_?”

“Do you know what he _does_ look like?” Eisuke asked.

“No idea,” KID said. 

Heiji gave him a deliberately suspicious look.

“Look, he admitted some things to my assistant during the heist,” KID said.  “That’s the only reason I know any of this.  If any of the Task Force people running after the fake KID got a good look at his face, they might know what he looks like, but my assistant didn’t get a clear look and I was unconscious.”

“You lost that much blood that fast?” Kudou asked.

“He had one of my sleeping gas capsules,” KID said.  “Not the ones from his family’s labs, one of the ones that I stole and modified, like the ones you have there.  The capsules look different, and the gas comes out pink.”

He glanced at Eisuke, who was frowning.  “It’s so the police _know_ it might be sleeping gas and have time to stop climbing things.  I don’t _like_ people getting hurt on my heists.”

“But, all right, if we really don’t know what he looks like, that will make tracking him a lot harder,” Eisuke said.

_Understatement of the century_ , Heiji thought, remembering how long he and Kudou had already spent going after a mostly-faceless organization in black.

KID sighed.  “Great,” he said.  “We know that knowing his motivations are important.  But whatever guesses you’re making about why he was protecting me don’t exactly help us know why he left, now do they?”

Heiji turned over the available information in his mind for a few moments, testing his theory for obvious flaws, then decided it was solid enough to air.

“But guessing that’s pretty simple, ain’t it?” he asked.  “He’s gotta be running from somethin’, whether it’s _Them_ or someone else.”

All three of the others turned to stare at him.

“Oh, come on!” Heiji exclaimed.  “He ain’t wearin’ his real face, ya jus’ said that.  Did anyone ever stop to think o’ ‘Why?’”

Shinichi stared at him, horrified.  “Do you think he’s running from someone?  Could that be why he left in the first place?”

“He’s been on the news, though, I looked up Youtube clips—why would he do that—” Eisuke started.  “Wait, no, what am I saying, Hidemi _-nee_ goes on the news in disguise all the time.”

“It creates a record of the false persona,” Kudou said.  “If I were any good at disguise, I might’ve tried it, too.  People were supposed to notice if he vanished—and look, they did.  Are we _sure_ he left of his own will?”

“According to the police, there were no signs of a struggle at the crime scene, and the set of ID left on his bed was too complete to have been laid out by anyone other than him,” KID said.  “Anyone who knows _Tantei-san_ knows he does martial arts, and he knows enough about guns to fire one.” KID fell silent.

“So he should’ve been able to resist anyone who tried to kidnap him?” Eisuke asked.

“There are still ways to threaten someone like that into compliance,” Kudou said.  “But he still would’ve struggled a little.  He would’ve found a way to leave us clues if it was unwilling.”

“So he did run…but maybe it was because he thought the people he was running from were coming for him?” Eisuke said.

“Could be,” Kudou said.

“Actually, there’s one more thing I know that suggests otherwise,” KID said.  “I have a contact in Paris.  She spoke to ‘me’ in person a few days ago.”

“He really likes impersonatin’ you,” Heiji observed.

“I have no idea where he got another suit, either,” KID added.  “Anyhow, he apparently asked her where he could find criminals dressed in black.”

Kudou froze.  “ _He’s going after_ Them _?_ ” he demanded, his voice rising to a near-earsplitting pitch.

“Seems like it,” KID said.  “The contact told him not to do it, and he ignored the warnings.”

“Where’d they tell ‘im to look?” Heiji asked.

“Berlin, another French city called Reims, and a city named Omsk in Russia,” KID listed.  “I have no way of knowing which one he chose, either.”

“S***—if he’s lucky, he’ll just get himself killed,” Kudou breathed.  “We have to stop him.”

“Kudou, don’t talk like you’ve never had a reckless plan in your life,” Heiji said.

“Yeah, but—I didn’t realize what I was getting into when I got into this mess,” Kudou said.  “If he’s managed to stay out of their notice in his current identity, and he suddenly attracts it—it’s not just him in danger.  It’s everyone he knows.”

“Yeah, and we definitely don’t want more murders,” Heiji agreed.

Kudou scowled and dragged a hand through his hair.  “It’s not just more murders, Hattori, everyone he knows includes _the Tokyo Police Superintendent-General_ and _the entire KID Task Force_.”

“Oh,” Heiji said softly.  “Okay, yeah, that’s bad.”

“I don’t follow,” KID said, looking from Kudou to Heiji.

“Worst case scenario, Hakuba’s dad and the entire Task Force have an _accident_ , and their replacements have a weird taste for black clothes,” Heiji said.  “Not somethin’ we wanna see happen.”

“In the police?” KID asked, wide-eyed.

“They’ve had temporary plants, don’t see why they wouldn’t invest in a long-term one if it became worth it to ‘em,” Heiji said.

Kudou shuddered, just slightly.  “I’m sure they would, and it’s best if they never end up with an opportunity to do so.”

KID noticeably frowned, surprising Heiji.  It was one thing to hear that the guy was way too attached to his chasers, and another to see it up close.

“But, if we know where he was going, we have a shot at finding him, right?” Eisuke said.

“We still don’t know what he’ll look like,” Kudou said.  “He _won’t_ be wearing Hakuba Saguru’s face, or his real one—not that it would help us if he did, since we don’t even know what he really looks like.”

“Kudou _-san_ , you’re focusing on what we don’t know,” Eisuke said.  “We don’t need to track him, we need to track what he’s doing.”

“What do you mean?” KID asked.  “If he can disguise like that, I’m sure he knows how to move around unnoticed too.”

“Not if he’s going after _Them,_ ” Eisuke said, grinning a bit fiercely.  “I mean, I know there’s not going to be a newspaper with the headline _Members of Large, Mysterious Crime Syndicate Arrested_ , but any unusual arrests will end up in the news somehow.”

“Even if _They_ have people in the media there, too, there’s only so much you can cover up at a time,” Kudou said, considering.  “Especially since Hakuba will be making sure to go to trustworthy police officers for the arrests.”

“’Sides, it ain’t like he’s gonna arrest ‘em all at once,” Heiji observed, starting to see Eisuke’s logic.  “If the tactics are that obvious, it prob’ly ain’t him.  But if there’s an unusual increase in the total number o’ arrests, or a major shift in the city’s crime statistics…”

“Then there’s a good chance we’ve found him,” Eisuke said, grin still sharp.  “It’s the easiest way to track him remotely, and he won’t even notice it until we’re ready to make a move.”

“It’s a lot of data,” Kudou said.  “We’ll have to find ways to make sure we aren’t chasing false positives.  But…if we can figure out how to manage _that_ , we might be able to add a few other cities to the list, in case Hakuba set us up using KID’s source.”

“I know I wasn’t lied to,” KID said.

“But were they?” Kudou asked.  “Hakuba could’ve asked that question without intending to use the information they gave him.”

“Still, we should focus on the information that’s probably good until we know it ain’t,” Heiji said.

KID nodded.  “Sounds like a plan.  So…is detective work normally this much like a gigantic research project?”

“Not for me, but I tend to be on-scene for deaths,” Kudou said.  “I think this is the kind of detective work you’re best suited to.”

“This is mostly what it was like for me when I was looking for Hidemi _-nee_ ,” Eisuke said.  “Actually, it’s what gave me the idea—I found out about Sleeping Kogoro from watching the news for her segment, and it got to the point where I knew what some of the bad parts of Tokyo were without ever having been there.”

“If we’re lucky, though, we’ll be able to get police blotters from at least one or two of the cities,” Kudou said.

“Well, that’s probably for another night, at this rate,” KID observed.

“At least we have a plan now,” Kudou said.

“Even if we still don’t really know what Hakuba’s deal is,” Heiji remarked with a sigh.

“Is it really so odd?” Kudou asked.  “You’re the one who was saying all along that something was off about him.”

“I was expecting him to snap, Kudou,” Heiji said.  “This ain’t snapping.  He’s been plannin’ out every move he makes, same as an investigation.”

KID twitched.  “I just hope he’s not predicting us.”

“I don’t think he could be,” Kudou said. “He’s never met Hondou _-san_.  So, at the very least, he won’t expect him.  But I hope he’s not predicting the rest of it.  I’d say he doesn’t know enough to—but yesterday, I would’ve said a lot of other things about him, and today I know most of those things are wrong.”

“D*** inconvenient trying to outthink a detective,” Heiji said.  “Let’s try to wrap this one up before it turns too interesting, huh?”

“For once, I’m all for that,” KID agreed, with a not-quite-smile.  “Oh, and Tantei _-han,_ if you’re staying in Tokyo longer than the Mouri’s will put you up, I got permission for you to stay here.”

“Thanks,” Heiji said, blinking at the thief in surprise. 

“You were the only person expecting him to do anything other than keep obsessing over KID and Sherlock Holmes,” KID said seriously.  “That means your instincts caught something than mine and _Tantei-kun_ ’s missed.  I’m willing to do what I can to make sure you can stay in Tokyo to help for as long as you’re willing.”

Under the weight of KID’s gaze, Heiji nodded. 

Heck if he knew exactly what was happening, but those ‘instincts’ of his were telling him that the holes in KID’s story weren’t all from lack of knowledge.  But the man seemed serious as the grave about getting Hakuba back, which meant there was another mystery in the pot with the rest…

The only reason KID would withhold information on something this important was if he thought it would be a threat to him.  So what made any of the information about Hakuba dangerous to the Kaitou KID?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mentions of canon character death, other unpleasant things from canon, and blood (from previous fic events). 
> 
> The heist Kaito refuses to go into detail about is the Red Tear heist—to be fair, the detectives probably wouldn’t believe him, and Kaito’s smart enough to know he wouldn’t react well to that. Also, forgetting that he was in mortal danger during the Nightmare heist is a slip on KID’s part—he was so concerned about Jii and then about Kenta that he kind of forgets that part. Also, he’s almost certain that if Hakuba was trying to change something, he was trying to protect Nightmare, not him.
> 
> I warned all of you that I liked spying, I believe, and here’s a bit more proof. What the boys are planning to do at the end of this chapter is essentially OSINT or open-source intelligence—which is really just a fancy word for strategically targeted research. A lot of intelligence agencies, because of the increased availability of unsorted open-source (publically available) information, are actually really starting to favor this area of intelligence because it’s very low-risk (like the characters, you can do it from outside of the country you’re targeting) but it can yield accurate, detailed predictions if your data and your analysts are both good.
> 
> Tune in next week for more borderline spyfic shenanegans, and leave a comment on the way out if you have the time!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there’s some ShinRan this chapter. In case anyone was wondering, this isn’t going to become a shipfic. I’m not much good at those, and I’m not much of a ShinRan shipper to begin with. But I am gonna poke at their dynamic for angst purposes, and I’m gonna be a little realistic about it, which means if you are on “Team ShinRan is 800% Healthy” you may not enjoy the Ran POV this chapter. Same, if you’re someone who absolutely can’t stand the ship at all. Feel free to skim if you gotta; people in this fandom are a lot more hardcore than me about their ships and I am willing to respect that.
> 
> This is a talky chapter, but it also has all the warnings for discussion of horrid things because when you let two murder detectives and a spy-in-training talk for a while it’s not always nice things (no matter how hard the nonviolent thief tries to slow them down). See the end notes for specifics.

Ran wasn’t really sure what Conan was up to recently.  Honestly, if Hattori wasn’t involved, she’d probably be interfering, but—as reckless as he could be, Hattori probably cared more about Conan than anyone else besides Ran did.  If whatever they were doing turned truly dangerous, he’d get help, or, at worst, let himself get hurt before Conan did.

Still, it was _bizarre_.  Hattori didn’t usually show up in Tokyo for this long.  At this rate, he’d spend most of his school break in the city. Not to mention the snatches of conversation she was catching from Conan talking to him over the cell phone…

“ _—another false lead_ ,” Conan had said, real frustration in his tone, as she walked past his room to go clean her dad’s.  “ _We keep trying, but we aren’t finding anything concrete.  At this rate..._ ”

His tone was so _bleak_ when he said that.  Maybe it was a game they were playing…but Hattori wasn’t really the kind to play games with Conan, not when he could just ask his younger friend along on real cases.

So what was Hattori so stuck on?  And why was Conan so upset about it?

The whole situation was worrying, but Ran didn’t want to say anything to Conan.  He’d know she was eavesdropping, and every time she so much as hinted that she’d overheard a single phone call of his, it resulted in two solid weeks of him being edgy and secretive and hogging the bathroom so he could have private phone conversations.  And then her father complained, and the whole thing just got out of control.

She wondered, sometimes, about how Conan’s life with the Edogawas had been.  He was a happy enough child, but he was oddly private, and jumpy, and prone to nightmares—though she could probably blame that last one on her father’s cases as much as anything else.

Still, she was worried, and while Sonoko would be supportive, she didn’t know a thing about childcare and only really tolerated Conan’s general existence for Ran’s sake.  And going to her dad would just end up with Conan grounded and sulking while her dad and Hattori had a screaming match over why “The Great Sleeping Kogoro” hadn’t been called in on their case.  Her dad meant well, but his priorities got out of order pretty often.

Shinichi wasn’t really good with kids as a rule, but he understood Conan—of course he did, they were too much alike for him not too.  Of course, Shinichi almost never picked up his phone nowadays.  But…well, it was always worth trying.

She sat down on her futon absentmindedly, like she was planning on calling Sonoko.  That always helped calm the butterflies that started up in her stomach at times like this.  She didn’t even need to find his name in the cell phone contacts, or look down at the numbers as she pressed them.  It rang once, twice, a third time—

And then, Shinichi’s voice, sounding breathless, asked, “Ran?  Is everything all right?”

“Y-yeah,” Ran said, half-shocked just to be getting an answer.  “I-I mean, nothing’s _really_ bad, no one _died_ ”—and, with the way their lives were, she really did need to say that—“but I wanted advice on something, so I thought…”

“Of course,” Shinichi said.  “What is it?”

“…Aren’t you busy working on your case, or whatever?” Ran asked, dumbfounded at how easy this all was.

“Yeah,” Shinichi said softly.  “Yeah, I am.”  He paused for a moment.  “…I’m sorry, Ran.  I understand better, now.  About what it’s like to worry about a person who’s missing.  I didn’t mean to put you through something like this.”

“Shinichi?” Ran asked, concerned.  “Did something happen?”

“I’ve shifted focus a little bit,” Shinichi said.  “I’m helping some other people search for someone who’s gone missing.  He’s kind of doing the same thing as I am—he’s off working on a really tough case too.  But he’s also cut contact with everyone.” 

Just the thought made Ran shudder.  After all this time apart, she wasn’t sure if she and Shinichi were going to have the same relationship to each other that they’d had before he left, but, the thought of just never seeing him again was deeply unsettling.  When her mom had been gone, when her dad had been too busy drinking to notice, he’d always been there.  The fact that he wasn’t physically present was bad enough, but the thought of losing contact completely— _no_.  She didn’t want to think about it.

“I thought about doing the same thing,” Shinichi admitted.  “I thought it might have been safer.”

_How can he talk about that so calmly?_   she wondered, caught off-balance.  She _knew_ it wasn’t just that Shinichi had been a constant for her—he was the one whose parents had been constantly haring off to different parts of the world and paying varying amounts of attention to him—meddling one second and barely noticing what he got up to the next.

_Even if he didn’t return my feelings, I thought I was at least important to him, was I really this_ wrong _—_

“But now I’m really glad I didn’t,” Shinichi continued.  “Because I know how worried the people that know him are about him.  And I’m glad I’m not the one making you that worried.”

“I still worry about you, Shinichi,” Ran said, not sure how else to respond.

“I know,” he said, voice thick with guilt, and just like that, she felt ridiculous for ever wondering whether he cared about her.  “But you know I’m doing what I can to come back, right?”

“You keep saying that,” Ran replied.  _Even if it is a little hard to believe_.

“Well, it’s true,” Shinichi said, in a tone that brooked no argument.  “I’ll be back as soon as I can.  What did you want to ask me about?”

“Conan _-kun_ ’s been working on some sort of weird case with Hattori _-kun_ , and I’m starting to get worried about it,” Ran said.  “Hattori _-kun_ ’s been here a while, and Conan _-kun_ seems frustrated…I can’t tell if I’m getting upset over nothing or not.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Shinichi said.  “I’m sure it’s just a difficult case.  If it was anything dangerous, Hattori would be taking measures to make sure Conan- _kun_ was safe.”

“That’s what I kept telling myself!” Ran said.

“Well, you were right,” Shinichi said, smug. 

“Don’t say I was right, just because you agree with me!” Ran protested.  “You’re still an arrogant Holmes geek.”

“Heh, yeah, I guess I am,” Shinichi said.  “It’s nice to know that some things don’t change.”  There was something a little wistful to his tone as he spoke.

“What do you mean by that?” Ran asked, confused.

“Nothing,” Shinichi said, with a weary-sounding chuckle.  “I’m just tired, probably.”

“Hey, don’t forget to sleep,” Ran said, worried.  “You always get so obsessive about cases—and a few of the times I’ve seen you since you’ve gone off on this case, you’ve had a fever.  That’s what happens when you don’t take care of yourself!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Shinichi said, almost fondly.  “I’ll be more careful. But seriously, don’t worry about Conan _-kun_.  I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks, Shinichi,” Ran said.  “Now, go get some sleep, okay?”

“I will soon,” Shinichi said.  She could practically picture the smile he was wearing right now—half-tired, half-fond.  “You should, too.  Don’t stay up worrying about the kid and your dad.”

“Maybe if they stayed out of trouble for five seconds at a time,” Ran said with a laugh.

“Not too likely,” Shinichi replied.  “Bye, Ran.  Be safe.”

“Bye, Shinichi,” Ran replied.  “You too, okay?”

He didn’t answer—he was already off the line.  If she was lucky, that meant he hadn’t noticed the worry in her tone.  But of course he probably had. 

Stupid detective dork.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Kaito kept his expression neutral as Shinichi walked back into the main room, cheeks brushed with red.

“I’m sorry you had to listen to that,” he mumbled, shoving his phone back into the pocket of his shorts.

Hattori was very pointedly looking at a handful of printouts, but he was frowning, and when he glanced up at the other detective, his expression was sympathetic.

“This place isn’t really built for privacy,” Kaito said aloud, thinning his lips slightly.  That would be enough for Shinichi to catch his intended meaning.   There really hadn’t been a place for Shinichi to have that conversation in private, given how thin the apartment’s walls were—and the best form of sympathy Kaito could offer Shinichi as his rival, under the circumstances, was pretending he hadn’t heard a word of it.

On the phone’s screen, Eisuke looked distinctly guilty.  Kaito wasn’t sure what was going on there, but there was probably a story to it and it probably wasn’t any of his business either.

“So, what have we got?” Shinichi asked.

“Berlin had a bit of a drugs crackdown, but that turned out to have been in the works for about three years,” Eisuke said.  “It was all politics, there was a member of the _Bundestag_ and some impending city reelections tied up in it, I don’t need to get into details.  Other than that, the fluctuations weren’t anything I wouldn’t expect given changes in tourist activity.”

“Reims is actually gettin’ worse,” Heiji said.  “There’s a _heck_ of a lot of unsolved crimes pillin’ up and I’m pretty sure KID’s source was right about _Them_ bein’ there.  But like I said, they’re _unsolved_.  The actual arrest rate’s jus’ about steady.”

“Omsk is holding steady, too,” Kudou said.  “No rises, no drops—well, nothing that’s enough to be statistically significant.  KID, you’re watching the Google Alert Eisuke set up, right?”

“Yeah,” Kaito said.  “The only thing I have actually learned is that Google’s search algorithm has more holes than old man Suzuki’s security on a bad day.  Once I actually cleared out all the useless things it picked up, the other large arrests were all like Eisuke’s drugs crackdown in Berlin—federal, and planned.”

“I mean, we’re assuming that Hakuba didn’t lay a groundwork before he ran,” Shinichi started, before trailing off.

“He mighta, but there’s limits ta how much groundwork ya can lay,” Heiji said.  “Especially if he wasn’t sure where he was goin’ ‘til he talked to KID’s contact.  I could see him knowing people, yeah, but having long-term arrest operations like that waitin’ for him to run away from home?”

“He would’ve had to be planning to leave, and there weren’t any indications of that, right?” Eisuke said.

“None the police noticed,” Shinichi said.

“For what it’s worth, I didn’t see anything, either,” Kaito said. 

It was true, even.  Hakuba had never given the impression that he was ready to run away at the drop of a hat.  Kaito still occasionally found it hard to believe he’d done so at all.

“Okay, Occam’s razor—the simpler explanation is that he _didn’t_ have plans waiting for him, and we just haven’t caught his activity yet,” Shinichi said.  “All this waiting and researching is getting to me too.  I feel like we’re letting him slip out of reach.  But we really don’t know enough to go after him.”

Kaito nodded, slowly.

“Speakin’ of that, now might be a good time to start workin’ on theories about where the heck he came from, anyhow,” Heiji said.

_Okay, that is not something I need them figuring out—not that they’d ever guess_ , Kaito thought.  Aloud, he asked, “Why do we need to know that?”

“Because if he is running away from someone dangerous, by going after him, we’re putting ourselves in their path,” Eisuke said seriously. 

_Can’t really argue with that, without tipping my hand_ way _too far_ , Kaito thought.

“Plus, it’s probably affectin’ our strategies,” Hattori said.  “It’s a thing all o’ us have in common—we like ta be inside o’ our opponent’s heads.  But Hakuba’s complicated ‘cause we don’t know how much o’ what we know o’ him was real and how much was cover, so we could all end up strategizin’ for diff’rent versions of ‘is head if we ain’t careful.”

Shinichi nodded.  “I have at least one theory,” he said grimly. “We want to know where he came from, where he is now, and his reasons for leaving there, coming here, and then leaving again.  Occam’s Razor, again—we know his reason for leaving has something to do with _Them_ , so is it possible that the other things do, too?”

“Are you saying you think Hakuba is one of _Them_?” Kaito asked cautiously.  _No use getting angry until I’m certain of what you mean._

“I think he used to be,” Shinichi replied.  “It’s not impossible to escape _Them_ —just incredibly hard.  It would explain his skillsets, why he’s hiding, and why the slightest indication that he might be discovered sent him running.”

“One problem,” Eisuke said.  “He’s a third-year high school student.  That isn’t old enough to have joined _Them_ , gotten training, and left.”

Shinichi looked away slightly, grimacing.  “Yes it is.  If his parents were members before him…kids grow up inside, and they start contributing _young_.”

Kaito felt ill at the thought.  Had Shinichi _talked_ to one of those members?  Come to think of it, his source, that girl from the Mystery Train… _nope, nope nope, not thinking about it, not thinking about it._

“So, not too young,” Eisuke said, his voice the shocky sort of breathless that Kaito was used to hearing out of substitute teachers in the aftermath of his pranks, but with a much darker undertone.  He didn’t like it half so much, this way.

“Not too young,” Shinichi confirmed.  “And I can think of an alarming number of reasons why they would try to train an agent with the same skills as KID, the most obvious of which is because they wanted to find that jewel KID’s looking for.”

“That theory doesn’t explain why he went after _Them_ instead of just running, though,” Kaito said.  _If this conversation’s going to happen anyway, I might as well participate.  I don’t want to mislead them more than I have to—not about things that might affect how likely they are to find him—but I_ definitely _don’t want to tell them the truth._

“There are two possibilities,” Shinichi said.  “One, he’s been planning to go after _Them_ for a while but this pushed him to act faster than he was planning to.  That’s the one I’m hoping for.”  He frowned, not quite meeting anyone else’s eyes.

“An’ the other?” Hattori prompted after a few seconds, expression grim.

“It’s a suicide run,” Shinichi said quietly.  “Members are taught that you can’t leave, and I’ve seen _Them_ back that up.  That ex-member I know is the _only_ ex-member I know of that survived leaving, with the exception of a few people who joined as undercover agents.”  He took a breath, and Kaito tried to decide whether his expression or the words coming out of his child-sized mouth were more jarring.  “If he thinks they’ve found him, he might be trying to choose the time and place of his death.”

Heiji swore quietly.

Even knowing it wasn’t true, Kaito couldn’t help being chilled.  Just the _thought_ …

“So if you’re right, there’s a chance that we have a deadline,” Eisuke said.

“If that’s what he’s doing, yeah,” Shinichi said reluctantly. He quickly added, “But it might not be.  It’s just one theory.”

“For what it’s worth, I got another,” Heiji said.  “I’d agree wit’ Kudou that it’s more’n likely that he picked up a skillset like KID’s working wit’ criminals.  There ain’t a lot o’ reasons for a law abidin’ citizen ta need most o’ those skills, let alone _all_ o’ them.  But if he were really one o’ _Them_ , well, wouldn’t _They’_ ve trained that habit he’s got of flinchin’ at corpses outta him?”

Shinichi nodded.  “Probably, yes,” he admitted.  “So you think it was a different group of criminals?”

“I’m figurin’ they’re the reason for the flinchin’ at corpses,” Heiji said.  “Ya usually see that from people who either ain’t ever seen one before, or ones who have trauma.  Since Hakuba’s either actually high school age or young enough to pass, they must’ve started training him young, an’ if they wanted ‘im gettin’ hands-on experience—”

“Then we’re looking at someone who saw his first dead body as young or younger than the Detective Boys, but no one told him it was okay to be upset by it,” Shinichi finished grimly.  “And he might have even been forced to help with the murder.”

_Okay, holy_ s*** _, this is why I am not a detective, who looks at the evidence we have and immediately assumes something this nasty?_   Kaito thought, having moved from chilled to more than a little nauseous.  _This is apparently what too many murder investigations does to you, and I want no part of it._

“That’s a lot of speculation,” Eisuke said.  “I mean, it would make sense for criminals to train him that way, but isn’t it possible that he just really isn’t used to dead bodies?”

“He’s solved hundreds of cases, and I’m sure a lot of those were murders,” Shinichi said.  “There’s a point when you have to get professional about it.  Especially given the way he acts the rest of the time, it’s significant that he can’t seem to.”

“That’s another reason why I think it mighta been that he got trained by somebody as a kid,” Heiji said.  “The degree ta which he relies on procedure.  I mean, there are people who just like followin’ rules.  But bein’ as strict about them as he is? That’s usually a sign of a rookie cop, which he ain’t.  He’s solved more cases than I have.  But really, the reason rookie cops follow rules is that they don’t trust their instincts—and Hakuba wouldn’t, if his instincts, from all the way back when he was a kid, were for somethin’ other’n bein’ a detective.”

_He’s probably right about that,_ Kaito thought, startled.  _I wouldn’t trust my instincts as a detective, if I were one.  Even though I’ve only been a thief for a little while, I’ve been a magician for a lot longer, and so my instincts are for how I could pull off a neat trick in any given situation—not whether a person’s guilty.  I guess it’s the same for Hakuba._

“That would be true if he was one of _Them_ , as well,” Shinichi pointed out.

“It’s possible that you’re just using yourselves as unrealistic standards,” Eisuke said.  “I mean, Kudou _-san_ , you’re the son of a crime novelist and Hattori _-san_ , you’re the son of a police official.  You both had an edge in terms of learning to deal with crime scenes.  As far as we know, Hakuba was living on his own in London under a false identity when he started solving crimes with Scotland Yard.  It’s possible that he just never learned to deal with it in any constructive way.”

“Do you have any ideas about where he might have come from?” Shinichi asked.

“Another possibility is that he’s a runaway from a family like mine,” Eisuke said.  “I think it’s more common for parents involved in intelligence work to be like my dad, and just not tell the kids, but there are stories about parents who know their kids are going into ‘the family business’ training them when they’re kids.  In this scenario, his reasons for leaving could have been anything from a normal family argument that escalated to his parents dying.”

“His mother’s alive,” Shinichi said absently.  “Takagi mentioned it.  I think his father is dead though.”

“So, what, you’re saying you think he’s got secret agent training?” Kaito asked.

“Disguise, escape, combat, breaking and entering without leaving traces…if we weren’t comparing him to KID, isn’t that what it would sound like?” Eisuke asked.

“Well, at least one of your theories features a possibility that Hakuba isn’t irrevocably psychologically damaged,” Kaito sighed.

“Sorry, but his actions are not those of a stable person who feels like they have a lot of options,” Shinichi said.

“And you keep glaring at Heiji for being less than tactful,” Eisuke said with a sigh.  “KID, we’ll find him and we’ll get him help.  It’s the best we can do.”

“If we’re right, it wasn’t that he got hurt, he came ta ya hurt,” Heiji said.  “There ain’t much ya can do about it, but you ain’t the one ta blame, either.”

Kaito offered his shiniest version of Poker Face in return for their efforts.  “Well, I’m afraid I don’t have any incredibly depressing theories, so I’m going to suggest we break for the night and come back tomorrow, hopefully with more conclusive results.”

“That would be nice,” Shinichi said.

Kaito stood and waved, then slipped through the door quickly enough that none of them would be able to follow the movement.  Part of that was to make sure that no one actually tried to follow him—but honestly, he didn’t really think they’d try anymore.  Mostly, he just wanted to get home and get to work on his other project for the week.  He’d spotted a news item about a new exhibition of jewelry at the Beika Museum, and it was both promising and the perfect opportunity to give Hakuba’s father the chance he needed to talk to KID.

Jii would disagree with the heist, since he was _sure_ his mother had told him about what happened last month.  His mother would probably even disapprove.  And the detectives would probably get all huffy about him actively committing crimes while working with them.  He couldn’t exactly fault them, either—he knew this was a bad idea.  But it also needed to be done.  So he was going to do it.

Just, without a lot of publicity so he didn’t get caught and stopped by his erstwhile allies before the police even got a chance at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for discussion of: child abuse, harm to children, children being exposed to violence (though really this is DCMK you should be used to that), indoctrination and murder. ...I’m sorry? 
> 
> Incidentally, all of these poor, screwed-up kid’s theories about Hakuba are up for adoption as AU fics if anyone wants to write them. Half the credit for them goes to my lovely beta, miladyRanger, even if she can’t remember helping with them because it was after 11 p.m. and she was exhausted, but she gives her permission as well (and denies personal responsibility for your trauma; I meanwhile, accept any credit and/or blame you feel necessary to throw around). I personally think BO!Hakuba (which I’ve never seen, not by himself, anyhow) and/or ex-criminal!Hakuba could be great fun.
> 
> (Yes I am on a mission to give all of you plotbunnies. PM me if you use one of my ideas, okay?)
> 
> Please leave a review on the way out! 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the later-than-usual post! I got a bit sick this morning and posting this was one of many things I meant to do then which did not get done. 
> 
> This is one of my favorite chapters in the story, and my beta, miladyRanger agrees. That said, in light of current events—there’s a decent amount of discussion of shooting and gunshot wounds in this chapter, and if after the Orlando shooting, that’s something anyone feels the need to nope out of, I understand completely.
> 
> Other warnings are in the end note as usual, along with links to art!

The roof felt like it was moving under Kaito’s feet— _geez_ , what kind of trap had Inspector Nakamori come up with this time?

He blinked, took a breath, and it wasn’t moving anymore.  It had never been moving, he’d just _gotten dizzy_.  Because it turned out that going straight from minimal activity to high-speed gymnastics was slightly risky.  And did not do good things for your coordination, or the display cases in the museum, except that the museum display cases weren’t going to feel this later and he _definitely_ was.  Ohgosh, this was such a bad idea, why did he insist on doing a heist this month?

Because not doing one would be like conceding to Jackal, plus it would make Nakamori and the Task Force worried over him as well as Hakuba.  Right.

Well, getting _caught_ would accomplish the exact same things, so, maybe, next time, more than a month of recovery time between getting shot on one heist and doing the next, he decided.   Or better, he could just not get shot again. Yeah, that sounded good.  So did less pain and his field of vision not moving from side to side when he was standing still.

Oh wait.  Standing still.  Heist.  _Bad_. 

He took off for the door leading down from the rooftop, hoping that he was running in a mostly-straight line, and brushing a hand against his pocket to remind himself that, _yes_ , the jewel was still there.

Oh no, someone was in the doorway.  Couldn’t be _Tantei-kun_ —Kaito had made _d***_ sure he didn’t even _know_ about this heist, and besides, this was an adult.   They looked like Kusakabe, a little, but the face was in shadow—and they were a little too short.  Still, none of Jackal’s guys were that heavyset that he remembered, so unexpected guns, while still possible, were unlikely.

Then, Superintendent-General Hakuba Tsuyoshi stepped out into the moonlight and Kaito had the pleasure of realizing he was even _further_ in over his head than he’d thought.  Awesome.

“Kaitou KID- _san_ ,” Tsuyoshi said.  “Nakamori _-keibu_ told me that my son often sends guards to rooftop exits when heists are held at buildings like this one, so I took a chance.  I am thankful it paid off.  I am here to ask you a favor.”

_Poker Face, Poker Face, Poker Face, this is what you wanted, remember_ , Kaito thought, even as he asked, “What would a police superintendent-general have to ask of a phantom thief?”

“Earlier this month, you were apparently looking into the matter of my son having left home,” Tsuyoshi said.  The moonlight picked out the shadows under his eyes—had he always looked so old?  More than that, had he always pronounced his Japanese so exactly like Hakuba?  Then again, it was probably the other way around-- Hakuba borrowed his accent from his adoptive father.  Still, hearing that diction with a different voice and face to it was…unsettling.

Ooh, just imagine hearing it with his _own_ face and voice.  Which would happen, probably, eventually, if they found Hakuba. _D***_ but his life had gotten strange.

No.  Wait.  Older-Hakuba asked a question.  And Kaito had to answer like he really was an unflappable ageless phantom thief instead of the injured, freaked-out teenager actually wearing the monocle.

“That’s right,” Kaito said.  “He’s a favorite critic.  I wanted to know what had happened.”

“Are you still looking into it?” Tsuyoshi pressed, expression intense.

Kaito debated what to tell him.  On one hand, telling him he had a team of talented critics with him would be encouraging—on the other, it could hurt their reputations if the head of the Tokyo Police knew they were working with a thief.

“If you aren’t, I’d like to request that you once again give the matter your attention,” Tsuyoshi said, looking Kaito in the eye.  Instinctively, Kaito pulled down the brim of his hat, stubbornly ignoring the sharp pain that lanced through his shoulder at the action.

Tsuyoshi seemed to take either the refusal of eye contact or Kaito’s not answering right away as indecision.  “I’ve spoken to some of the Task Force; they say you seem to care about the policemen who chase you,” Tsuyoshi said.  “I trust their judgement.  And…it would seem that my son’s abilities are a closer match to yours than I knew, which means that you may be the one with the best chance of finding him.”

“You realize that isn’t the normal way of things?” Kaito asked, almost rhetorically.  “Thieves don’t chase detectives; with your son and I, particularly, there is an established order of things.”

“Precisely,” Tsuyoshi said, tone sharp.  “Perhaps you aren’t very concerned, Kaitou KID _-san_ , but do recall precisely how intent my son was on your capture.  What, exactly, do you think, could have convinced him to give up on it?”

_Oh, I don’t know, the fact that he was never trying to capture me?_ Kaito thought.  _Though…it’s kind of bad, isn’t it, that just Mom finding him out was enough to make Hakuba give up completely on protecting me, too?_

“Until I know for certain that he isn’t fleeing some threat—real or imagined—I won’t stop looking for him,” Tsuyoshi said.  “Will I have your aid or not?”

Tsuyoshi’s expression was utterly serious.  Kaito, exhausted, aching, and nearly as concerned about Hakuba as the man before him, could only answer in kind. 

“You will,” he said, thinning his smile to a grim line as, hand still gripping his hat’s brim, he swept forward into a bow.

“It is…much appreciated,” Tsuyoshi said.  His voice was thick, and Kaito _could not handle this_. The second Tsuyoshi stepped away from the doorway, Kaito all but threw himself through it, without even thinking about how the movements would jar his injuries.

 :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

There was a funny beeping noise, Kaito noted blearily, and it wasn’t stopping.  Oh.  That was his phone alarm, for when he was supposed to leave to work with _Tantei_ - _kun_ and the others… _s***_.  He’d slept through school completely, the day after a heist, Hakuba would _have_ him this time.

No.  No he wouldn’t, because Hakuba was gone, and also _Kaito from the future_ , and life was really getting stranger all the time, but it wouldn’t involve an arrest anytime soon unless Aoko got suspicious by herself.

Okay, he’d been awake for a few minutes now, and he was definitely more conscious but he did not feel any less like he’d gone a round of dodge-the-mop with Aoko without dodging, and that was concerning.  Injury inventory time it was, then.  Bruises, it felt like, mostly.  Lots of bruises, some new, some old and not as healed as he thought, and pain in his shoulder, and basically…yeah, he shouldn’t have done the heist at all last night.  His mom was gonna kill him if his own body didn’t get to it first.

But, first, time to meet the detectives to work on Hakuba-tracking.  He’d need to put together a disguise pretty quickly—maybe Shinichi, given the circumstances? 

He looked down, and realized that a simpler solution would be to keep on the KID costume he’d apparently slept in.  Unprofessional as _h***_ , of course, but the amount of effort and raising his arms involved in taking it off and putting something else on was pretty much unthinkable at this point, so, yep, the costume stayed on.  He did at least throw on a full-length grey coat over it—though he was sure the shoulder decorations on the cape made the coat hang oddly—and collapse the hat so that he could tuck it under the coat.  The monocle went from the bedside table (at least he’d taken that much off) to one of the pockets.

He slipped into the bathroom, and checked his facial makeup.  It looked horrible, of course—he’d slept in it.  His mother would probably need to throw out the pillowcase, too, since most of the stuff he used was waterproof.  Hey, it needed to be to survive everything he threw at the police.  If he didn’t have so much practice at this that he could practically do it asleep, he would’ve just given up in exhaustion, but at this point he could do it on autopilot—carefully-placed blush and foundation to distort the contours of his face, a couple of touches borrowed from his dad’s old stage makeup, concealer under the eyes to hide any signs of late-night heist prep, and—done.

Okay, now he just needed to convince himself that going to meet the detectives was actually worth the effort and pain associated with moving.  Yep.  This was going to be a productive night, he could tell already.

Oh, hey, heat was supposed to help with aches and stuff, right?  He still had some of the adhesive hot packs left from the heist that Kaitou Corbeau almost-but-didn’t crash, so he could use those.  It’d probably ruin the silk lining again, but he could re-sew it. 

_Besides giving me nice shiny tools for breaking and entering, Jii is teaching me to be a lovely househusband_ , he thought, letting out a giggle he recognized as slightly manic.

So, mostly on autopilot, he stuck a few heat packs stuck to the inside of the suit jacket—over his shoulder, of course, and his chest and stomach, which ached next-most—and he was almost ready to go.  Good thing he at least kept the “Detective-ing Bag” packed and ready to go, so all he had to do was put the cell phone in and pick it up.

Okay, picking it up wasn’t that simple.  Picking it up _hurt_.  Moving _hurt_.  But Beika wasn’t that far and he would be _fine._ Absolutely fine.

He got to the apartment and he _was not fine._ But he had Poker Face, and he could still focus on his breathing, and those were both very good things.

He took off the coat, put on the monocle and hat, and knocked.  Shinichi unlocked the door and then _glared_ at him.

_Poker Face, Poker Face, Poker Face_ , he reminded himself.

“Is there any particular reason you didn’t tell me you were planning a heist last night?” Shinichi asked, voice scraping the bottom of the pitch range that tiny body of his was capable of.

“Couldn’t make you an accomplice,” Kaito replied, trying for ‘glib’ but probably only managing ‘flat.’

There was a chair, over in the other corner of the room.  Hattori had gotten it at some point during his stay, and Kaito couldn’t bring himself to care from where or how.  He was a detective, it had to have been legal, at least.  He made his way over it and tried not to collapse into it too obviously.

“You wouldn’t have made me an accomplice,” Shinichi said, impatience soaking his tone.  “Because if you’d told me, I would’ve stopped you.”

“Hold up, _Tantei-kun_ , just because we’re working together doesn’t mean I stop being KID,” Kaito said, managing to summon up enough energy for anger from who-even-knew where.  “And KID steals things, that’s part of the whole—”

“I understand that,” Shinichi interrupted.  “But you are _supposed_ to be smarter than this.”

“Smarter than what, exactly?” Kaito asked testily, sure he should be offended but not sure what Shinichi was talking about.

Shinichi made a frustrated noise.  “Than going on a heist when you were _clearly_ not recovered enough!  Of all the reckless, irresponsible things—you _know_ you’re our best chance at actually getting to talk to Hakuba, when we find him—you could’ve died, and then what?” the teen-turned-child demanded, voice rising in volume and pitch until it squeaked.  “I know that what you’re trying to accomplish on heists is important—but so is _you living long enough to do it_.  If you die before you find that thing _or_ we find Hakuba, it’s all been pointless, do you get it?”  He carded a hand through his hair, _glared,_ and took a deep breath.  “And you’re barely with it enough to keep track of what I’m saying, right?”

Playing off the statement with a laugh would _hurt_ , so that was right out.  “Actually, I was getting most of it,” he said.  “And having something to focus on was helpful.”

“Have you taken anything?” Shinichi asked, a bit less bite to his tone.

“I need to be fully aware for this,” Kaito didn’t-really-answer.

“If you’re in enough pain that getting yelled at is a welcome distraction, you don’t count as lucid anyway,” Shinichi grumbled.  “Do you have something, or do I have to go to the nearest drugstore and do the ‘ _Nii-san_ ’s out of pain medicine’ act?”

_That_ did startle a laugh out of him, and, sure enough, it hurt.  “The _h***_ have you been up to, _Tantei_ - _kun_?”

Shinichi waved off the question.

“No, seriously, I want to hear this,” Kaito pressed.

“I had good reasons and maybe if you can avoid re-injuring yourself for the next two weeks, you’ll get to hear them,” Shinichi snapped.

“You wound me, _Tantei-kun_ ,” Kaito said dramatically.

“Someone else has already taken care of that for me,” Shinichi grumbled.  “You better not let them do it again, idiot thief.”

“Right,” Kaito said, smiling a bit despite himself.  “I’ve got medicine, I’ll just go get it—”

“You are not getting up unless the building catches fire,” Shinichi interrupted.  “Tell me which bag and how to disarm the booby traps.”

“There aren’t booby traps, I bring it to a place full of detectives,” Kaito said, sighing.  “There are a few _pranks,_ but not near the first-aid kit, that would be stupid.  It’s the brown bag by my left leg, in the front pocket with the zipper.  _Don’t_ open the one with the snap closure.”

“I thought you said no booby traps,” Shinichi said, unzipping the pocket gingerly.

“Aerosolized dye isn’t a _booby trap_ ,” Kaito said, summoning the energy to be insulted from heaven-only-knew-where.  “Sleeping gas, a spring-loaded fist, sparklers—those would be booby traps.  This is just a prank.”

Shinichi made a frustrated noise, pulled out the first-aid kit, and opened it.  “There’s some acetaminophen in here, and some ibuprofen.  Which works better?”

“Ibuprofen, usually, but—”

“You aren’t supposed to take it on an empty stomach, I know,” Shinichi interrupted. “Hattori’ll be back from Lawson’s in a few minutes with some convenience-store bento; you can have some of my sushi and take it then.  We were expecting you to call off, because of the heist, and Eisuke hasn’t called yet either, so we decided to take a food break.”

“Um, sushi?” Kaito asked quietly, panicking a little.  _Great, everything hurts and now I have to figure out how to lie my way out of eating fish.  It’s still gonna be in the room, though…ugh…if I just don’t think about it, I’m sure it’ll be fine…haha…yeah, definitely, just don’t think about it…_

“Are you vegetarian or something?” Shinichi asked, raising an eyebrow.  “Because I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you eat meat in disguise before.”

“Uh…”

“Okay, no, this just feels mean,” Shinichi said.  “I can’t interrogate you like this.  So, sushi freaks you out, for whatever reason.  Okay.  Is this just an ‘I don’t want to eat it’ sort of thing?”

“More like an ‘I’d really feel better about everything if you ate it in the kitchen and I stayed here’, sort of thing,” Kaito said, very nearly levelly.

“What the f***, it’s rice inside of a piece of fried tofu; you get _shot_ at on a regular basis and _that_ is what scares you?” Shinichi demanded a bit hysterically.

“Oh, it’s _inarizushi_ ,” Kaito said with relief.  “That’s all right, then.”

“So you’re only afraid of some kinds of sushi?” Shinichi asked, just as the door opened.

“I think I musta misheard that,” Heiji said, walking into the room, kicking the door shut behind him and holding up a plastic bag.  “I got the food—sorry there ain’t any for you, KID _-han_ , but we didn’t think ya were comin’.  Actually, ya shouldn’t be here.  Why’re ya here?  Ya gotta be hurtin’, after being an _ahou_ last night.” He toed off his shoes by the door and started across the room toward them.

“Give it a rest, Hattori, I already laid into him,” Shinichi said.  “I have a feeling this is the first commitment today he’s been awake for, and he just _barely_ managed to make it in.  He’s taking ibuprofen after he has some of my sushi.”

“So I don’t even get an opinion anymore?” Kaito asked, more amused than offended.

“ _Ahou_ who hold heists when they’re recoverin’ from bullet wounds don’t get opinions on their health,” Heiji said firmly, sitting down crosslegged near Kaito and Shinichi and dropping the plastic bag on the floor in front of him.  “Ya can’t go to the hospital without gettin’ arrested, sure, but that ain’t an excuse not ta take care of yourself properly.  Unless yer futon’s fulla police officers too, ya could at least try gettin’ some rest or somethin’, geez…”

Shinichi turned bright red.

“What’d I say?”

Kaito sat back to appreciate likely the only time he’d be able to watch an eight-year-old hold back laughter at a teenager’s accidental innuendo.

“What?”  Heiji repeated, starting to get frustrated.

Kaito had mercy.  “I’m not _that_ close to the Task Force, _Tantei-han_ ,” he said, smirking, and giving the word “that” a subtle twist that made Heiji’s eyes light with comprehension.

Now Heiji’s cheeks were the ones darkening with color, and he was clearly winding up for some kind of retort, but before he could stammer anything out, the phone Eisuke usually called on rang.  Heiji scrambled for it.

“H-hondou _-han_ , good morning!” he said, still flushed, after picking up.  “Everythin’ okay over there?”

Onscreen, Eisuke ducked his head.  “I’m so sorry.  I stayed up writing a paper and it seems I forgot to set my alarm.”

“Happens,” Heiji said dismissively, setting the phone on top of a stack of printouts so it was a little easier for Kaito to see from his chair.

“KID _-san_ , you came!” Eisuke said, surprised.  “You probably shouldn’t have.  How badly are you hurt?”

“It’s mostly just bruises, I think,” Kaito said.

“You think?” all three detectives echoed.

“I woke up, put on KID makeup, and came here,” Kaito said.  “I mean, I can usually inventory injuries by feel, but…”

“You’re not the most awake at the moment, and you didn’t actually do a visual check,” Shinichi finished.  “Can you get to the bathroom to actually do one, or do you want Heiji to help you get there?”

“Do you really need to be so pushy?” Kaito asked.

“The only people he ever mother-hens are other eight-year-olds that don’t listen to him,” Heiji said.  “Plus, he’s as rude as me half the time, just with a Tokyo accent and from knee height, so people don’t notice so much.”

“Will you cut it out with the short jokes?” Shinichi snapped.

“I’m going to make breakfast,” Eisuke said, sounding bored.  “Yell into the phone if you need first aid advice; I’m kind of an expert at this point.”

“To answer your earlier question, I can get myself to the bathroom,” Kaito said, standing very slowly.  Everything was stiff, everything hurt, and those heat-packs had already stopped working.  _Stupid cheap things_ , he thought, a bit viciously, as he started across the room.

“Okay, now it’s my turn to be pushy, _ahou_ ,” Heiji said, coming up behind Kaito and then unceremoniously draping Kaito’s arm over his shoulder.  He’d at least picked the one that wasn’t attached to the injured shoulder, but the stiff muscles still protested heavily, and Kaito couldn’t quite shove down the wince.

“S***, how bad did ya mess yerself up?” Heiji asked, as he matched his pace to Kaito’s and carefully took most of his weight.  It was pretty obvious that he’d done this before—Kaito wondered if it had been for the taller version of Shinichi, or someone else.

“I am normally very careful to stay in shape between heists,” KID said carefully.  “Most of my difficulty this time was less due to injury and more due to being out of shape as a result of recovering from it.”

“Huh,” Heiji said.  “Makes sense, I guess.” 

They reached the entrance of the bathroom, and Heiji carefully ducked out from under Kaito’s arm.  Kaito, in response, slumped against the entryway for a moment, then slipped through the door.

He didn’t say, “Thank you,” until the door was half-closed.

He shrugged off his jacket first, already a little tired at the idea of taking off the entire outfit and putting it on again.  At least having the jacket off meant having the cape, and the attached hang-glider, off as well, so there was that.

It looked like he was going to have to wash the dress shirt, though.  The top of the shoulder was a nice dark color, and, sure enough, when he reached across to brush fingers over his back, it felt stiff and crusty in the same way Hakuba’s discarded bloody shirt had.  Sighing, he took off his tie, tucked it into his pocket, and then undid the top few buttons of his shirt, tugging it away from his shoulder, and edging sideways a few steps so that his back faced the bathroom mirror.  Gritting his teeth a bit, he craned his neck over his shoulder to check exactly how badly he’d reopened the wound.

It wasn’t the whole way, it seemed.  It was kind of messy, so he couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like he’d just torn the middle bit of the wound open a little.  The reopened wound hadn’t bled _that_ much, but—it could probably use sterilizing, and a proper bandage, and _of course_ he’d left the first aid kit out in the living room with Shinichi and Heiji.

Grumbling, he turned around and opened the door, steadying himself against the wall slightly until he made it to the open living room.

“Look, if you wanna have one of my _onigiri_ —” Heiji started, gesturing with his wooden chopsticks.

“KID?” Shinichi interrupted, getting to his feet, eyes wide.

Heiji followed his gaze and his jaw dropped.  “Yer bleedin’— _s***_!”

“I _was_ bleeding,” Kaito corrected.  “It’s stopped.  But I thought it best to bandage the wound, just in case.”

“Yeah,” Shinichi agreed.  “Come over here.”

Kaito stiffened.  “I can do this much myself.”

“Not well ya can’t,” Heiji said.  “You can barely see it without turnin’ yer head halfway around, so yer gonna have a hard time cleanin’ it.  An if ya manage that…well, at the speed yer goin’ tonight, ya ain’t gonna have the energy left to get the bandage on one-handed, even if ya do know how ta do it.”

“There are a number of areas of the human body that are unique to each individual,” Shinichi said.  “The fingerprint, the ear, the cornea—the shoulder isn’t one of them.  We’re not going to be able to identify you by it, or by the injury.  Even if we saw someone with a similar scar, we wouldn’t be able to identify a person with it as you unless we were sure there wasn’t any other explanation for it. And I’m guessing you already have some sort of explanation in your civilian life for what happened—you can’t completely act away the effects of a bullet wound.”

“You could just be saying that,” Kaito said.

“You’ve saved my life more than once,” Shinichi said flatly.  “And we have a truce for this case.  I’m offering to help.”

“He’s tryin’ to say, ‘I never offer to help, be flattered,’ without bein’ rude,” Heiji said.

“What’d I miss?” Eisuke asked from the phone, startling them all.

“KID reopened part of his shoulder wound,” Shinichi said, with a glance toward the phone.  He glanced back at KID.  “That’s what happened, right?”

Kaito nodded.

“You need to at least put some gauze on that,” Eisuke said.  “The fact that you reopened it means it’s going to heal slower.  If you can, you should probably clean it, too, just in case.  You use smoke bombs on heists, stuff might’ve gotten into it, and you _don’t_ want it infected.”

Kaito shuddered.  “Okay, I’ll accept the first aid help.  But this is a one-time thing.”

“Heiji, could you go wet one of the gauze pads so we can use it to clean the wound?” Shinichi asked.

“Why do I hafta do it?” Heiji demanded. 

“Because you don’t have to use a stool to get to the sink,” Shinichi replied, rummaging through the kit, then pulling out two wrapped gauze pads.  He tossed one to Heiji.

Heiji made a grumbling noise but got up regardless.

“Can you use chopsticks with your other hand?” Shinichi asked.

“I thought you weren’t trying to catch me!” Kaito exclaimed, startled by the odd line of questioning—something Shinichi usually only used on suspects.

“I want to know if you can eat the sushi while we’re bandaging you,” Shinichi said levelly.  “I didn’t forget about the pain medicine.  Now come sit down, but on the floor this time.”

Kaito made his way across the room and carefully arranged himself into a vaguely crosslegged position.  It was uncomfortable, but far less uncomfortable than attempting _seiza_ would have been.

“Sorry,” Shinichi said.  “The chair’s probably more comfortable.”  His smile turned strained.  “But I can’t reach that high.”

“It really gets to you sometimes, huh?” Kaito said, feeling an odd burst of sympathy for the detective.  _But it’s a little easier to understand right now, when walking a meter or so is exhausting, isn’t it?  There are things he just can’t do right now and that has to be frustrating._

Shinichi looked down as he continued rummaging through the first aid kit.  “I’m sure getting shot at gets old after a while, too.”

“Right about after you actually get hit,” Kaito agreed, undoing the top few buttons of his shirt and pulling it away from his shoulder so the wound was visible.

“Here’s the pad,” Heiji said, coming to kneel beside them and handing it to Shinichi.  He tossed a bundle of white on the floor next to Kaito.  “Got your jacket and cape, too—feels silk, but that’s all I know about it from touchin’ it.”  He turned to Shinichi again.  “Kudou, you should probably do this, your hands are steadier.”

Shinichi nodded, then grabbed one of the containers of sushi and put it on the floor in front of Kaito.  “Now, you eat, we’ll fix the hole in your shoulder.”

“It’s not a whole hole this time!” Kaito protested, opening the container and solving the chopstick problem by eating the _inarizushi_ with his hands _. I can use chopsticks with either hand, too, but that’s not something I need detectives knowing._

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Heiji said, waving a hand dismissively.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you, okay?” Shinichi said, dabbing carefully at the wound. 

After a few seconds, he hit a tender spot, and Kaito flinched. 

“I said to tell me!” Shinichi snapped. “It’s not just for your comfort; there’s enough dried blood there that I’m not completely sure where the actual wound is.  I don’t want to take off the scab—”

“In this case, you might want to,” Eisuke said.  “The wound could have foreign matter in it.”

“Okay, I might want to take off the scab, but I don’t want to do it without warning you,” Shinichi said. 

“Okay,” Kaito said.  “That hurt.  You happy?”

“No, but thank you for doing what I asked,” Shinichi said. 

He finished wiping at the area around the wound.  “I’m going to wipe at the scab now.  It might hurt, and it might start bleeding again.  Hattori, could you open the other gauze pad?”

“On it.  Got the antibiotic cream too.”

“Thanks.  KID, you ready?”

“Yes,” Kaito answered, mentally adding, _as I’ll ever be_.

Shinichi pressed the wet gauze on the scab, and while the skin around it was tender, Kaito didn’t feel anything in particular besides pressure and the same ache he’d been feeling all along.  After a few seconds, Shinichi cursed.

“Yeah, it’s bleeding again.  Hattori, the antibiotic cream and gauze?”

“Here.”

Kaito felt gauze with antibiotic cream on it being pressed against his shoulder, and then taped in place.

“Where’d you get the tape?” Heiji asked.

“I got that out of the kit and put it in my pocket when I started,” Shinichi said.  “Made things easier.  Eisuke’s probably got more experience with this sort of thing, but I’ve still got some.”

“Thanks,” KID said.  “All of you.” 

He pulled his shirt back to rights and re-buttoned it. 

Shinichi smiled faintly.  “Now, eat at least one more piece of sushi and you can take the ibuprofen.”

“Can I eat it in the chair?” Kaito asked.

Shinichi sighed.  “Yes, you can eat it in the chair.”

Kaito took a piece of sushi, stood slowly, and then collapsed back into the chair, careful not to jar the newly-bandaged shoulder.  “I missed you,” he murmured.

“What?” Eisuke asked.

“Stop eavesdropping, that was between me and the chair,” Kaito scolded, before taking a bite of sushi.

Eisuke shook his head, and Shinichi let out a bark of laughter as he carried the bloodstained gauze he’d used to clean Kaito’s wound to the kitchen.  They could all hear Shinichi dragging a stool up to the sink, running the garbage disposal, and then washing his hands.

Kaito finished his sushi in thoughtful silence, then dry-swallowed two ibuprofen.

“You shouldn’t dry-swallow pills,” Eisuke said, a hint of worry to his tone.

“I’ll be fine,” Kaito replied.

“Your DNA is safely past our reach,” Shinichi said, as he came back into the room.

“Thank you,” Kaito said with a nod.

“He took the medicine,” Heiji reported.

“Good,” Shinichi said.

“So, are you going to let up now?” Kaito asked.

“Are you going to do a heist next month?” Shinichi responded.

“No,” Kaito said. “Not if it’ll mess up my shoulder _again_.”

“Then I’ll let up,” Shinichi said primly, picking up a piece of _inarizushi_ with his chopsticks.

“On the bright side, at least for KID’s purposes, the scar’s not going to look much like a bullet wound after it reopening like that,” Eisuke said.

“Yeah, it’ll be more irregular than you’d expect,” Shinichi said.  “Might get less suspicion that way.  Seeing anything that even looks like a bullet wound on a Japanese person ends up raising some red flags.”

“For police officers and detectives, yeah,” Heiji said.  “Though I guess that’s what KID’s avoidin’.”

“We don’t know what the scar will look like yet, so I’m not going to get ahead of myself,” Kaito said, wondering if he’d taken something stronger than ibuprofen at some point.  _I’m sitting around with a bunch of detectives talking about whether I’ll scar suspiciously.  How did this become my life?_

“Anything that looks like a bullet wound— _Kudou-san_ ,” Eisuke snapped suddenly.  “Is _that_ why you were staring at me back at the Okudaira Mansion?”

“You have to admit, it was suspicious,” Shinichi said, holding his hands up, his tone almost pacifying.  “I already knew your sister was Kir, but I _didn’t_ know she was a NOC and I thought you might be working with her; it seemed like evidence—”

“If you’d been running on logic instead of paranoia, you’d have dismissed it immediately,” Eisuke interrupted.  “Have you considered, y’know, _talking_ to someone, once you find an antidote?”

“I dismissed it soon enough,” Shinichi replied.  “And are you talking about a therapist?  Because I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh,” Heiji and KID said sarcastically, and at once, before staring at each other in no little alarm.

“ _Tantei-kun_ , you are kind of paranoid, not without good reason, but still…how do you think you’re going to adjust back to _not_ having to look over your shoulder constantly?” KID asked.

Shinichi frowned.  “I’ll manage.”

“Kudou—” Heiji started.

“I said _I’ll manage_ ,” Shinichi said firmly.

“What’s this about Kudou thinkin’ ya got shot?” Heiji asked Eisuke, clearly changing the subject.

“Just…an old surgical scar,” Eisuke said, reluctant.

Heiji’s gaze didn’t shift focus and Eisuke squirmed in place, looking uncomfortable.  “I had a bone marrow transplant, as a kid,” he said, rubbing at the center of his chest in what seemed like an unconscious motion.

“ _What_?” Heiji asked, a bit loudly, making Eisuke blink in surprise.  Then, he turned to Shinichi.  “If it was in the middle o’ his chest like that, o’ course it wasn’t a bullet wound!  Anything direct enough to leave a scar that round woulda shattered his sternum, sendin’ bone fragments through his organs an’ killin’ ‘im!” He snorted.  “An’ ya still get called The Great Detective of the East.”

“I figured that out after I thought about it; give me _some_ credit!” Shinichi spat in return.

“Ya shouldn’t’ve even had ta think about it, that’s practically Fatal Wounds 101!”

“There is no such thing!”

“You’d’ve failed it if there were!”

“Don’t you feel silly now for thinking they’d make a big deal out of it?” Kaito asked Eisuke rhetorically. 

“I guess you aren’t going to, either?” Eisuke asked.  His tone wasn’t hopeful…but Kaito was beginning to figure out that Eisuke had a bit of a Poker Face of his own.

“Why interrupt the show?” Kaito asked. _After all, you don’t give a kid a bone marrow transplant unless they’re really sick—cancer, usually, I think.  I’m guessing he doesn’t want to talk about it and I can’t really blame him._

“I don’t know, if they get much louder they’ll blow out my speakers,” Eisuke replied.

Kaito snickered and tuned back in to Heiji and Shinichi’s argument.

“I only said that because you weren’t going to tell me your deduction unless I said you were the better detective!” Shinichi snapped.

“So ya were lying?” Heiji asked, a sly grin on his face.  “What happened ta ‘There’s only one truth’?”

“ _My name is a lie_ ,” Shinichi fumed.  “ _Everything_ about Edogawa Conan is a lie.  So, yes, Hattori, I can lie.”

“I dunno,” Heiji said.  “Conan _-kun_ sure seems to like soccer, and Sherlock Holmes.  An’ his _neechan_.” The grin turned into a full-on smirk.  “Guess none of that applies to Kudou, though.”

Shinichi turned bright red.  “H-Hattori!”

“Let them go,” Kaito said.  “They probably need to blow off the steam.”  _They just bandaged me up.  I’m sure they’re not used to dealing with the alive-and-bleeding combo, nevermind the fact that I’m a thief and they’re actively helping me out at this point.  It’s either this or serious self-examination about how moral and safe what they’re doing is, and I doubt they want to do the latter with me still here._

“We aren’t getting a thing done this time, are we?” Eisuke asked.

“Doubt it,” Kaito said, grinning a bit as he tried to settle in the chair in a way that didn’t hurt.

They could afford one night off, he decided sleepily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional warnings for detailed discussion of murder methods, some very light innuendo, and a character (unknowingly) being insensitive about a phobia.
> 
> I struggled with the writing of the phobia bit, but ultimately found the way I did it to be most in-character for all parties involved—Kaito would not tell the detectives why fish were a problem, and Shinichi would not stop asking questions about it without a reason. Balancing Poker Face and a realistic phobia reaction was difficult, too, but I think I managed to do it.  
> There’s a drawing of Hattori supporting KID when KID’s trying to go check his injuries on pixiv [here](http://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=57409463). I’m going to be putting it on Tumblr as well on Wednesday, along with a sketch of KID without his jacket.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed what I’ve been referring to mentally as “the three-ring circus chapter”—if you did, please do leave a review on the way out.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say here except that I’ll be posting art for this chapter on Tumblr soon, and that this chapter is full of my opinions and headcanons, particularly about Chikage and Kaito’s relationship. It’s really heavily based on MK 1412 over the manga, as well—not because I like the anime but because the anime is clearer on details that I needed for this chapter to work. 
> 
> Warnings, links to art, and more notes at the end!

When Kaito slept through the day after the heist, Chikage decided to let it be.  Her scolding could wait.  But the next day he went to school, and if he could manage school, he could at least attempt to give her an explanation of why on _Earth_ he would ever attempt anything so idiotic as holding a heist a month after he’d been shot.

She’d been balancing her efforts to keep track of her son with her attempts to find the other version of him, but so far, both endeavors were _fantastically_ unsuccessful.  Both of them were too well trained—Kaito kept sneaking out of the house every night even when she was specifically trying to prevent him from doing so.  Meanwhile, Saguru seemed to have dodged her entire information network—and at this point, it spanned most of the inhabited continents, _all_ of them if you counted contacts at a few degrees of remove from her.  But not one of them had caught so much as a whisper of him outside of the ripples caused by his initial disappearance.  But it was _her_ Kaito that was the problem now.  She was almost impressed that he’d managed to have an entire heist without alerting her.  Almost.  Not really, because being impressed would involve approving and she did _not._

So, when he came home, she was in the kitchen, waiting for him, a paper headlined with the words “KID STRIKES AGAIN” faceup on the table before her.

 “There was a KID heist two nights ago,” she said flatly, pinning him down with her gaze.

He looked exhausted, she noted—more reason why he shouldn’t have done the heist.

“Yeah, but no note from Corbeau,” he replied, almost immediately.  He frowned in feigned confusion.  “Were you busy?”

Caught off guard, she let surprise flicker across her face for a moment, and he smirked.  She frowned.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out eventually?” he asked, before lowering himself into a kitchen chair with KID’s exaggerated grace.  The flow of the movements was off, though.  He was holding himself too carefully—either new injuries, or regression in the conditions of old ones. 

“I did plan to tell you,” Chikage said, carefully expressionless.

“Really?” Kaito asked, disbelief clear in his tone.  “When?”

Chikage’s lips twisted, just slightly.  “At an appropriate moment.”  _After I’d left, perhaps._

“I’m not even sure I believe you,” Kaito said. He took a breath, and his expression shuttered into Poker Face.  “I did research on Corbeau, after that first heist when he didn’t show up.  I heard who he was supposed to look like.”

Chikage did not let herself react.  _He’s trying to take you off topic.  This is still about him and that heist he shouldn’t have done._

“I can kind of understand that,” he continued.  “I’m wearing his costume, and his professional name, after all, so it makes sense that you’d want something, too.  But the fact that you didn’t show up…” He grinned, eyes narrowed, and the expression was all KID.  “ _That_ was when you started looking into Hakuba, wasn’t it? Because he stopped you.”

Chikage cursed to herself, knowing her expression had flickered again.

“He stopped you, and he _kept_ stopping you, and that’s why I _never_ saw Kaitou Corbeau in person,” Kaito said.  “Hakuba didn’t get that serious about many things.  He tried like _h***_ to stop Nightmare from even showing up in Japan, yeah, but most of the time, he’d leave as much of the heist as possible to me and only interfere with parts of it.”

_What’s he getting at_? Chikage wondered.

“Which makes me wonder—what, exactly, was he trying so hard to stop you from doing?” Kaito asked.

Chikage didn’t say anything. If not incriminating herself worked with the police, it had better work with teenage sons.

“I figure it has to have something to do with you mentioning Las Vegas the first night you showed up,” Kaito continued, almost lazily.  “So either you were trying to get me to quit, or you were testing my resolve.  Either answer’s gonna tick me off, and I’m not really gonna believe you if you try to tell me it was something else.  So you really might as well answer.”

_Who the h*** is this and what have they done with Kaito?_ Chikage wondered, a bit wildly.  Then, she answered her own question.  _You know exactly who this is.  It’s KID, and it’s who Kaito grew into, because this is the kind of personality that keeps a phantom thief alive and free.  You know that yourself. There was never an outcome in which becoming KID didn’t twist him a little, not as long as those people in black were involved too._

“I was here to test your resolve,” Chikage said.  “I was worried about your reasons for being KID, and I was worried that you weren’t ready.  I can see now that I was wrong.”

Kaito’s smile was line-thin and purely made of Poker Face; his eyes didn’t match it at all. “So, was showing up with Dad’s face part of the test?”

“I—”

“I see,” Kaito said.  The rage in his eyes vanished, but so did all of the other emotions. Kaito might well have been looking at a store window for all of the reaction he was showing.  “I think I understand Hakuba _-san’_ s feelings a little bit better now.”

Something heavy settled in Chikage’s stomach.  “Kaito—”

Kaito stood up, slowly, in an awkward parody of KID’s effortless movements.  Chikage was even more certain than before that he was injured.

“I’m just concerned that you’ve made your injuries worse by having another heist—” Chikage started.

“Someone took care of the injuries,” Kaito said, voice utterly flat.  “And Aoko and Akako have been watching me since I came back from school, so if I get worse or anything, they’ll notice.”

“Aoko and Akako aren’t around all the time—” Chikage started.

“Well, neither are you,” Kaito half-spat.  “You can’t just leave, and come back, and keep secrets and set tests without telling me and expect none of it to affect me!”  He took a breath.  “Poker Face is an _act_ , Mom.  Tell me you know that much.”

“O-of course,” Chikage said.  _But…maybe I haven’t been acting like it._ “Kaito, if you need to talk about anything, you know I’m here for you…”

“Do I?” Kaito asked.  “We _barely_ talk about Dad, you constantly pretend to be cheerier and less intelligent than you are even though I’m your son and it’s not like I’m going to use it against you, you ask me to clean up messes from when you were Phantom Lady even though you’re still active as a phantom thief too, not that I knew that until now—what, exactly, am I supposed to be getting from that?  As far as I can tell, you don’t trust me and it’s kind of hard to see why I should trust you either.”

He scowled at her, Poker Face discarded.

“That’s not—I don’t mean to—” Chikage stammered.  _Why do I do that?  I mean, I’m just trying to be cheerful for him—that’s okay, right?_

“I know you love me and I know you’re not trying to be cruel,” Kaito said, softly.

_But you’re being cruel anyway_ , Chikage finished mentally.

“Just—give me some time, Mom,” Kaito said.  “Maybe there’s a short show in Vegas you could do?”

_He wants me to leave_ , she thought, half-choking on the thought of it.  “Not while you’re injured,” she managed.

Kaito’s Poker Face made its return.  “If that’s how you feel,” he said, and walked out of the kitchen.

 Chikage cursed to herself and watched her son half-drag himself up the staircase, wanting to offer help and knowing it wouldn’t be welcome. 

_How did things get to this point?_ She wondered.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Eisuke woke up to the sound of his phone ringing.  He sat up, rubbing at bleary eyes, and fumbled with the phone, almost dropping it and then finally picking up the call.  Ah, that stopped the ringing—but then he realized he ought to say something.

“Huh—Hondou,” he managed.  He blinked. “Kudou- _kun_?  Did something—”

“Sorry to disappoint,” came KID’s smooth tone.  No—not that smooth.  Something _was_ wrong.

“What happened?” Eisuke asked.

“Nothing related to the case,” KID said.  “I’m sorry for waking you.  But—you aren’t one of the critics that chase me.”

“No,” Eisuke said.  This felt important.  He wished he was more awake for it.  Swallowing a groan, he swung his legs over the side of his bed and sat up straight.

“So, maybe, if you have a chance to poke at me and get answers, you could not take it,” KID said.

“I think I could do that,” Eisuke said. “KID _-san_ , it’s not even dawn here, I don’t think I can poke at much.”

KID made a frustrated noise.  “I shouldn’t have called—”

“If there’s a reason why the first person you thought to call is a clumsy teenager half a world away, I don’t need to know it,” Eisuke said.  “I said I wouldn’t poke.  But you should think about that, maybe.  Why there isn’t anyone else.”

“There are other people,” KID said.  “But I’ll have to lie to them.  You at least know I won’t tell you everything.”

 “What would you tell me, then?” Eisuke said.

“Nothing,” KID said, after a moment.  “But I might ask you to tell me how you’re doing in America.  And to…to not ask any more questions for a while.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Eisuke asked.

“ _Please_ ,” KID said, with a desperation to his tone that nearly startled Eisuke off the mattress.

“Okay,” Eisuke said, worried but willing to go along with KID’s odd request.  “Well, I’m getting a little better at pronouncing English.  My grades have dropped a bit, honestly, but I’m not that concerned—I looked it up online, and CIA field agents don’t need to go to elite universities, so as long as I keep mostly A’s, it’s all right.  Oh—an A is sort of like a “ _Shuu”_ mark, it’s for 90 to 100 percent, except that it’s easier to get here.  I don’t think that’s true everywhere in the U.S., though—but I’m beginning to think I transferred into a mid-level high school.  It’s an easy mistake to make, I guess—they don’t have national rankings for high schools in the U.S. like they do here; how was I supposed to know which ones were the good ones?  Except I think the _really_ good ones are the private ones, and I can’t afford them, so…”

“You’re paying for all of this on your own, I guess, huh?” KID asked quietly.  His voice sounded a little hoarse, but Eisuke didn’t comment.

“Well, it’s my inheritance from Mom, mostly,” Eisuke said.  “Though they do let high school students get part-time jobs here, so I got one!  It’s at a fast food place, and I’ve only gotten burnt a few times.  Since all the shifts are afterschool and on weekends, it hasn’t been interfering with the investigation.  But anyway, that doesn’t really pay for much more than groceries and a little rent.  Everything else is Mom’s money.  I should be okay through the end of high school, if I’m careful and I don’t have a medical crisis.

“But hopefully nothing like that will happen,” Eisuke said.  “Anyhow, work isn’t bad.  And I’ll probably have a new neighbor soon. The Montenez family next door is moving to a condo because they want their baby to have a backyard when she gets big enough to walk, so they’re leaving.  The manager’s been showing people around for weeks, but I don’t know if anyone’s made an offer yet…”

He continued babbling, KID interrupting with soft questions every so often, for at least the next hour.

“That’s apparently what Common Core Math is,” Eisuke said.  “I don’t understand it either.  I think maybe they made it up as part of one of those pranks they play on foreigners.”

“Maybe,” KID said. “Hondou _-san_ , I should let you catch up on a little of the sleep you missed.  But…thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Eisuke said.  Then, hesitantly, he added, “I don’t need to know what happened.  But I hope something better happens soon.”

KID laughed softly.  “That would be nice.  Have a good day, Hondou _-san_.”

“Goodnight, KID- _san_ ,” Eisuke replied, before laying back down and setting his phone on the bedside table.

He really doubted he’d get back to sleep, though.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Nakamori Ginzou took another drink of beer and stole a glance over his shoulder at Chikage.  She was on her third glass of something that looked like tea but _smelled_ at least as alcoholic as the particularly strong _sake_ they brought out to celebrate after heists that didn’t go horribly.  She’d showed up at his house out of the blue and declared that they were going drinking roughly an hour ago—maybe an hour and a half, his own drink was probably just about getting to his head.  That had been the last time she’d spoken to him.  She hadn’t said a word on the drive over, she didn’t talk once they got into the bar except to explain the unholy mixed drink she was having to the bartender, and she still wasn’t talking.  After about 20 minutes the silence had started getting to him and he’d struck up a conversation with the salaryman next to him, a nice guy named Terashima who was worried about paying for specialty food for his kid’s golden retriever.

Ginzou kind of envied the guy his problems, honestly.

“Still can’t believe it has a…a liver problem,” Terashima said, his sake apparently starting to affect his speech.  “I wasn’t even sure it had a liver, you know?  Like, animals don’t have all the same organs as humans, why would it have a liver?”

“I think livers are important,” Ginzou said.  “I know it really hurts people if you punch them in them.  Or maybe that’s kidneys?”

“What’d you say you did for a living?” Terashima asked, squinting at Ginzou suspiciously.

“I’m a police inspector!” Ginzou said defensively.  “It’s part of my job to be able to…incapacitorate…er…stop suspects.”

“I don’t know if I want my tax dollars to pay for people to get liver damage,” Terashima said. 

A loud ‘thunk’ from behind Ginzou had him straightening on instinct. 

“I screwed up,” Chikage announced, voice low and rough.  “With Kaito.  How’d I screw up this much?”

Terashima’s dog forgotten, Ginzou turned around, and his answer slipped out, unbidden.  “I’m probably not the person to ask about that.”  _Aoko’ll deny it until the end of time but I know she was upset that I forgot her birthday.  Still can’t believe I did that._

“I guess not,” Chikage said, with a hard-edged laugh.  “She still loves you, though.”

“Kaito _-kun_ loves you, too, Chikage, why would you—”

“You didn’t see the way he _looked_ at me,” Chikage said.  “Might as well have been an ant on a sidewalk.  Didn’t care past that.”

“Did you two fight, or something?”

“Did we fight, he asks,” Chikage said softly.  “I’ve _never_ seen him angry like that.  And he was right.  Maybe not about all of it, but about the big stuff.  _F***_ me, I forgot he was human.”

_Yeah, she’s officially too far gone to realize what she’s saying out loud_ , Ginzou realized. _If I ask her about it now, I’m gonna hear all sorts of things she never meant to tell me.  Wouldn’t be right._

“That’s going around,” he said instead.  “Think a lot of people dropped the ball with Hakuba _-kun_ , and I’m on the top of that list.”

Chikage made a pained noise and tossed back the last of her drink in one swallow.  “Don’t remind me about that mess; if I hadn’t talked to him—”

“Chikage _-san_ , if one conversation about Toichi _-san_ was enough to make him bolt for the hills, it wasn’t you who screwed up,” Ginzou said.  “He shouldn’t have been on heists like that and _I_ was the one who shoulda seen it.”

“Not that pointing fingers gets us any-d***-where,” Chikage said.  “He’s still in the wind.  Know he’s not in Paris, at least, but past that—”

“How the _f***_ do you know he’s not in Paris?” Ginzou demanded.  “When’d you go to Paris?  I don’t remember—”

“I didn’t go to Paris, I had my friends in Paris look for him and one of them nearly found him so he ran,” Chikage said, spacing out the words like she was talking to a small child. 

Ginzou scowled at her. “You have friends everywhere; it’s weird.  But—Paris?  The _f***_ did he do to get to _f***ing_ Paris?”

Chikage shrugged.  “He’s probably somewhere else in Europe now.”  One corner of her lip quirked upward, slightly, as the rest of her expression remained grim.  “He’s a talented boy, I’m sure he’s figured something out.”

“He’s probably sleeping on the d*** streets,” Ginzou muttered savagely.  “He’s a f***ing _thefts_ detective, he’s not gonna steal money unless he’s desperate and I’ll bet you anything _nowhere to sleep_ isn’t gonna count as desperate to him, idiot kid that he is.”

“Oh my—is your _kid missing_ , have I been complaining about my dog this entire time while you’re worried about your kid running away?” Terashima broke into the conversation, looking anxious.

“My— _f***_ no, he’s the Superintendent-General’s, I’m just in charge of the squad he works with when he does police operations,” Ginzou said.  “My girl’s safe at home.”

Terashima looked from Ginzou to Chikage.  “So you aren’t married.”

“NO!” both of them shouted at once.

Terashima recoiled.  “Sorry, you were talking about your kids, and you seemed so used to it, so I thought—”

“I’m a widow, and Nakamori _-keibu_ is a widower,” Chikage said, looking a bit confused.  “The two of us are just friends.  Who sometimes watch each other’s children.”

“If you knew our children, you’d know why we need two sets of eyes,” Ginzou added.  “Hers is a monkey that does magic tricks.”

“Yours is a holy terror, and just as smart as him, and manages to pass herself off as empty-headed half the time,” Chikage said.

“If she ever joins the force, Detective Satou called dibs on training her for undercover work,” Ginzou said miserably.

“Don’t let her,” Chikage said into her glass.  “Nothing good comes of training kids.  You train them and train them and then they get better than you meant them to be and you forget they aren’t good at _everything_ and it all goes to _s***_.”

“We talking about Hakuba or Kaito now?” Ginzou asked.  “’Cause Toichi _-san_ was the one who trained Kaito, mostly, wasn’t he?”

“Nope, I helped,” Chikage said.  “Finishing touches and all that.  I was proud, but—it wasn’t such a good idea.”

“Chikage, whatever you’re fighting about, teaching Kaito magic wasn’t a bad thing,” Ginzou said.  “It makes him feel closer to his dad.  That’s good, right?”

“Closer to his dad, that’s what started this mess,” Chikage said.  She narrowed her eyes at Ginzou.  “He seemed like he was coping but he wasn’t and—ugh, I’m gonna drink until _I_ forget his Poker Face.”

“The h***’s a poker face got to do with this?” Ginzou asked, confused.

“Hold on to that innocence, Ginzou _-san_ ,” Chikage said firmly.  She turned toward the bartender.

“Um, should she really—” Terashima started.

“No,” Ginzou answered.  “Chikage, you’re done.  Let’s get a cab.”

Chikage glared at him.  “I _know_ you go out with the Task Force and get trashed after really bad heists.”

“Yeah, and it’s a bad habit,” Ginzou admitted.  “One you don’t need.”  Chikage kept glaring.  “Look, if you’re fighting with Kaito, do you think staggerer—ah, d***--do you think coming in at three a.m. drunk is gonna help things?”

“No, no it won’t,” Chikage said.  “With my luck the other one’ll find out and _he’ll_ be pissed too.”

“The other what?” Ginzou asked.

“The other Kaito,” Chikage said. “It’s a secret, but there’s two.”

“D*** it, Chikage, that’s _not_ funny,” Ginzou said, with a reflexive shiver.  “Two of him would turn half of Tokyo upside down.  Not that one doesn’t.”

“Everyone keeps thinkin’ I’m trying to make a joke, but it’s not a joke; it’s not even funny,” Chikage pouted.

“You are a weird drunk, Chikage,” Ginzou said.

“I’m a weird sober, too,” Chikage replied with a giggle.

Ginzou sighed and started working past his phone’s lock screen. The sooner he called a cab and got her home, the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for depiction and discussion of a really dysfunctional family situation, including canon events being framed as a parent acting cruelly toward their child instead of just “testing them,”as well as alcohol and drunkenness.
> 
> You are all by now aware that I think that Corbeau was a screwed-up thing to shove in Kaito’s face, and this chapter is the culmination of that. It’s not the endpoint, though, if anyone’s worried—Kaito and Chikage’s relationship is one of many arcs I’m juggling. 
> 
> There is fanart on pixiv for this chapter—a picture of [Kaito calling Eisuke](http://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=57521566), and one of [Nakamori and Chikage](http://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=57521944) at the bar. I’ll post the images on Tumblr tomorrow, probably.
> 
> Guys, I know I put out chapters every week, and that they’re mostly prewritten, so it might not feel like reviewing is affecting much, but I really could use some more feedback. Real life is not currently awesome, and it’s tiring, which cuts into writing time/energy, so I’d really, really appreciate the encouragement of hearing from some of you if you’re enjoying this thing.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is being posted very late due to a combination of business, tiredness, and personal circumstances. I apologize and don’t expect it to happen too frequently, but it may indeed happen again if circumstances conspire.
> 
> This chapter is a little OC heavy, in that it involves the KID Task Force and my and miladyRanger’s version of Hakuba’s father, who is functionally an OC despite technically existing in canon. So, it seems like a good time to remind you of something that will also be relevant a few more times over the course of the fic: I like filling in blanks in canon by adding OCs and/or fleshing out canon characters, but I’m not about to let minor characters, either mine or Aoyama’s, take over the fic. 
> 
> Also, when it comes to Jii--I translate “bocchama” to “Young Master” when it stands alone but leave it untranslated as an honorific. Hope that’s not too confusing to anyone. Thanks, and enjoy the chapter!

_ The one best suited to solve this riddle is the reason I write it: _

_ The game is not afoot, nor will it be for some time _

_ I am not an old man in Sussex but a student in Norfolk _

_ Concern yourself with lost cubs rather than me. _

Nakamori Ginzou looked up from the note lying on his desk and shouted, “KID Riddle, all hands!”

“The h***?” Kusakabe demanded, sidling up to the desk.  “It’s only been a few days!  Is he escalating?”

“You shut your mouth,” Harada said curtly, coming up behind him. 

Harada was from Ginzou’s generation, and the nicest of them didn’t appreciate implications that KID was actually some sort of violent, disorganized psychotic.  The surliest were liable to punch people for those accusations and end up in Human Resources or anger management classes.

“It is weird, though,” Miuta said.  “Does it look like another impersonator?”

Half the Thefts Division let out an audible groan at that.  Despite department gossip-mongers implying the opposite, not  _ every _ KID impersonator ended in dead bodies—but most did.   And even the ones that didn’t tended to leave mass property damage in their wake, like that idiot department store employee and his fiasco of a Christmas heist.

No one liked seeing dead bodies, no one liked having to negotiate jurisdiction with Megure's firebrand star detective and her prickly alpha male fanclub (okay, Takagi, Chiba, and Shiratori  were okay, but Satou needed to take things less personally and the rest of the squad was a pack of overgrown hooligans) and no one liked the fact that those cases more often than not got wrapped up by KID and/or Megure’s pack of tagalong private detectives and not the police.  It was d*** embarrassing. 

“It ain’t a normal KID note, but…” Ginzou trailed off.  “Miuta.  After Hakuba, you’re probably best at this s***.  Whaddya make of it?”

There was a heavy silence as Miuta inspected the note.  They’d been on the case of Hakuba’s disappearance for weeks now, and they’d gotten exactly nowhere.  A few false trails, sure.  Even a kid in Hokkaido who turned out to just really look like their missing member.  But no actual leads.

Chikage’s drunken claim that he was in Paris at some point was as close as he’d gotten to one in all this time.  And in a missing person case, that went straight past bad and all the way to “probably fatal.”

With things this far along, Ginzou was starting to dread the day that one of his men came up to the desk with a folder from Division Two, saying they needed to transfer the case because they’d ID’d the kid’s remains.

From the expressions on some of the other guys’ faces, he could tell he wasn’t the only one.

“I think this is about Hakuba,” Miuta said.  “...I think it’s referencing Holmes.  I don’t know.  I’ve seen like two episodes of  _ Sherlock Bones _ and I watched one of the Basil Rathbone movies with subtitles at two a.m. once.”

Harada glared at him.

“I know  _ Japanese  _ trivia; this is English stuff,” Miuta said, crossing his arms.  “I specialize a bit, is that a felony?”

“We gotta get  _ Oyaji _ ,” Yoshida declared suddenly.

Miuta cocked his head to the side.  “This has to be hard enough on him without pulling him into our attempts to solve a KID riddle.”

Nakamori blinked. “Someone want to explain?”

“You really didn’t hear about that?” Harada asked.  “The rookies call the superintendent-general that since he mentors a lot of them.  Well, that, or  _ frickin’ ninja _ , because they were calling him “Mom” ‘til he started sneaking up on people whenever they did it and politely asking them to use the right gender, at least.”

Nakamori made a sort of choked noise.

“There’s a couple guys over in Traffic who call him “ninja-dad” but he doesn’t really like it much,” Yoshida reported.

“How did I not hear about this?” Ginzou managed.

“Probably too busy cursing at KID,” Kusakabe said, smirking.

No one disagreed, and a couple people grinned.

“Wipe those grins off your faces, and someone get the superintendent-general!” Nakamori growled.  “And I don’t care what you call him in private; in the office you  _ will  _ address him by his proper title.”

Inwardly, though, he laughed.   _ Frickin’ ninja.  Wow, sir, that’s just impressive. _

A few minutes later, Yoshida and Komori reappeared with the superintendent-general close behind.

“You think the KID note concerns my son,” the superintendent-general said, frowning.

Nakamori nodded and handed the card to his superior, who scanned it, expression grave.

“You’re correct,” the man said, after a moment.

“Then, you get it?” Miuta said.

The superintendent-general nodded.  “Officer Yoshida told me you were the one to notice that it was some sort of Holmes reference.  Good work.”  He grinned a bit tiredly at Miuta, who all but lit up.

“The first line is saying that the note would be easiest for Saguru _ -kun _ to decode, right?” Miuta asked.

Tsuyoshi nodded.  “That’s right, given the second line. It starts  _ ‘The game is not afoot, _ ’ which is a modified quote from both Shakespeare’s  _ Henry V _ and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s  _ The Adventure of The Abbey Grange _ .  But combined with the first line—no one in the Task Force is a Shakespeare expert, but my son is both absent and a Holmesian.”

“You’re really well-read sir,” GInzou commented.

“We all have hobbies,” Superintendent-General Hakuba said dismissively.  “As for the rest of the line… _ ‘nor will it be for some time _ ’ combined with ‘ _ the game is not afoot _ ’...I heard from Saguru that KID, at least, has been known to treat your encounters as a contest.”

Ginzou nodded. “That’s right.”

“So, he’s calling some kind of halt to heists,” Superintendent-General Hakuba said, frowning at the note a bit.  

Ginzou tried not to be obvious about monitoring the sudden restlessness among the men.  Even if more than half of them hadn’t been around for the first hiatus, they all knew about it, and if this was an announcement of a second, well...they weren’t gonna take it well.  Months of effort and planning and training would be down the drain in a moment, never mind the fact that the snipers at recent heists made it possible that the retirement wasn’t so voluntary, and some of the younger officers with bleeding hearts would worry.  Not that Ginzou wouldn’t.  Eight  _ d*** _ years, he’d spent waiting.  How many years would it be this time?

“The third line...Holmes, as an old man, retired to Sussex to keep bees,” Superintendent-General Hakuba continued, frowning at the note slightly in concentration.  “So...I believe he’s saying this isn’t a retirement.”

“So he’s saying he isn’t retiring,” Harada said.

Ginzou did not slump in relief, but only because he couldn’t be a bad example for the rookies watching.

Superintendent-General Hakuba nodded, pleased.  “The second part, ‘ _ a student in Norfolk _ ,’ is a reference to a less popular case set during Holmes’s college years, while he was vacationing in Norfolk.  So he’s saying this is a vacation.  The last line is, I believe, a reference to my son’s nickname in the papers--they call him the Wolf of Europe.”

“That  _ a**hole _ of a thief,” Ginzou all but snarled.  “The  _ h*** _ does he think we’re doing  _ now _ ?”

“I don’t presume to know what goes on in such a man’s mind,” Superintendent-General Hakuba said quietly.

And, somewhere, buried under burgeoning panic at the prospect of yet another hiatus, Ginzou’s instincts twinged.  The superintendent-general’s reaction was off and it was important, somehow.

“It is a hiatus, isn’t it, sir?” Yoshida asked anxiously, fidgeting a little as he looked up at Ginzou.

“Now, we don’t know that for certain,” Harada said.  “KID’s taken breaks since the last hiatus.”

“But he’s never felt the need to warn for them like this before,” Miuta pointed out, with a dull sort of certainty to his tone.

“He didn’t warn for the hiatus, either,” Harada argued.

“What are you all doing standing around here gossiping?” Ginzou thundered, deliberately ending the conversation.  “The note’s solved, speculatin’ aimlessly won’t help anything, and you all have work to do!  Now get going!”

His subordinates scattered, and Superintendent-General Hakuba likewise turned to leave.

“Now, you, sir, you I’d like to wait just one second,” Ginzou said.

“It’s as you said,” the superintendent-general said.  “We all have work to return to.” 

“I think my work right now involves talkin’ to you,” Ginzou said. “You said that when Holmes was in, er, Nolfikk or wherever, he ended up working on a case, right?”

The superintendent-general nodded, obviously wary.  Ginzou plowed onward, more sure than ever that his instincts were on the right track.

“So why didn’t you at least suggest that KID was saying he was working on something while he was on break?” Ginzou asked.  “That woulda been a possible explanation, too.”

“I suppose I simply thought that the fact that there was a case had more to do with the source material than with KID’s meaning...you can hardly find any part of Holmes to reference in which he is  _ not _ working on a case.”

“Then why not explain that to us while explainin’ the heist note?” Ginzou asked.

Superintendent-General Hakuba’s frown tightened.

Ginzou’s eyes narrowed.  “There’s something you aren’t tellin’ me, and I don’t like it,” he said.

Superintendent-General Hakuba looked away, expression defeated.  “I was...advised...that, given circumstances, there was a chance that KID would be more successful in locating my son than I or the police force at large would be.  At first, I was loathe to even consider the claim, but given how much time has passed…”

Ginzou stared at him, wide-eyed.  “THE H***, SIR?”

Superintendent-General Hakuba made a  soft shushing noise, and looked around furtively.  Fortunately, by this point, Ginzou cursing loudly was more-or-less a non-event in the Thefts Division.  People only really started looking up if the cursing was being used to punctuate orders.

“What would you do, if it were your daughter?” Superintendent-General Hakuba asked.

“I sure as h*** wouldn’t trust that d*** sneak-thief—” Ginzou broke off as the superintendent-general’s gaze drove into him, exhaustion and desperation just barely held together with the dedication to his duty that had earned the man his office in the first place.  Chastened, he actually considered the question.

“If it was Aoko, I might do a lot of desperate s***,” he admitted.  “Maybe not the particular thing you did, but probably some pretty stupid stuff.”

“I should think so,” the superintendent-general murmured. “So, yes, I suspect my request is among the reasons behind this break...and if I may be so bold, it is one of the reasons I believe it to be only a break, rather than a hiatus.”

“Tell that herd of rookies ya got calling ya  _ oyaji  _ that, if ya want, but I ain’t worried,” Ginzou said firmly.   _ I ain’t.  He’ll be back.  I know it. _

“You’re a good man, and a poor liar,” the superintendent-general said quietly.  “Perhaps it was a mistake to allow Saguru _ -kun _ to continue working with the police, but I think you were one of the best possible choices for him to work under.”

And with that, the man strode off, leaving Ginzou blinking, confused, and wondering what exactly had just happened.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“It’s been some time since I’ve seen you here, Young Master,” Jii said, a hint of admonishment to his tone, as Kaito walked into the empty Blue Parrot.

Kaito ducked his head in acknowledgement, grinning through the spark of pain the motion sent racing through his neck.  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the heist.  It was a stupid idea, but I thought I needed to do it and I knew you’d try to stop me.”

“True,” Jii said mildly.  “It seems you’ve at least learned something, but I can’t help wishing you’d been able to learn it a bit less painfully.”

“I’m not hurt that badly,” Kaito said, waving a hand and not letting a single twinge show on his face.

Jii cocked an eyebrow.  “I’m a few decades too old to be fooled so easily, Young Master.”

Kaito slumped onto one of the barstools.  “You could at least humor me?”

“That doesn’t mean pretending that I don’t notice when you’re hurting,” Jii said.  “I don’t think that’s what you want from me.  Or were you lying to your mother?”

Kaito sat straight, ignoring his the way the muscles in his back protested.  “So, she’s already talked to you.”

He hadn’t known Jii was  _ capable _ of smiling so coldly...but, really, knowing the man was a former pool shark, he shouldn’t have been surprised.  “I’ve listened to her, but that doesn’t mean I’ve agreed with everything she’s said.”

He sighed.  “She was hurt deeply by Toichi _ -sama _ ’s death, but that’s a reason, rather than an excuse.  It’s not my place to interfere in your family’s affairs, beyond being of help to both of you when you need it, but you have no need to worry that what you say to me will make its way back to her.  Of course, I’ll ask that you don’t ask me to tell you exactly what she’s said to me, either.”

“That seems fair,” Kaito said, relaxing again.  “I don’t want you to feel like you’re stuck in the middle of all of this.”

“Well, I can’t help feeling as though I might have prevented it, if I had—” He broke off.  “But such regrets aren’t for your ears.  There’s another matter, however.  One thing I did  _ not _ tell your mother was that the nights you haven’t been at home or with the Nakamoris weren’t spent here, either.  But now that I have, frankly, no idea where you’ve been...I have to confess, I’m a bit concerned.  Particularly with Hakuba _ -san _ missing…”

“About that...how much do you, uh, know, about that situation?” Kaito asked, carefully.

“I haven’t been concerning myself with it,” Jii began.  His eyes narrowed.  “But you have.  What did you  _ do _ , Kaito _ -bocchama _ ?”

Kaito held up his hands.  “Uh, first you have to  _ promise _ you aren’t going to tell Mom.”

“I don’t like where this is going, Young Master,” Jii half-growled, expression thunderous.

“Promise, or I swear I won’t tell you, and this one, you  _ won’t  _ guess,” Kaito said.

“I promise,” Jii said wearily.

“I may or may not be helping some detectives look for Hakuba,” Kaito said.

“Young Master!” Jii exclaimed, scandalized.  

He wore the sort of expression a normal family friend might get on his face if Kaito had announced he was planning to steal the Three Sacred Treasures of Japan.  Of course, this was Jii, so if Kaito had actually announced a plan to steal the Three Sacred Treasures, Jii would probably get excited and start drawing blueprints, until he remembered the religious significance and got just a little guilty.

“As Kaito, or as KID?” Jii demanded.

“As KID,” Kaito said.  “I’ve been going in disguise, they agreed not to arrest me while I was helping them find Hakuba, and it’s generally been as safe as I can make it.  I showed up injured last night and they probably  _ could’ve  _ arrested me if they wanted to but they didn’t because we have an agreement and I think I’m growing on them.”

Jii gave him a sideways look.  “Don’t rely on that.  You may  _ think _ a detective is your friend, but the law will  _ always _ come first for them.”

Kaito let out a small snort of a laugh.  “I’m not so sure.”

Jii raised an eyebrow.

“These guys are big on the truth and finding who’s responsible, but if little laws get in the way, they’re kind of cavalier about breaking them,” Kaito said.

Jii gave him a searching look.  “What kind of detectives, exactly...did you actually  _ find _ Kudou _ -kun _ ?”

Kaito startled.  “What made your mind leap to Kudou?”

“He had a  _ gun _ , at the Clocktower,” Jii said, expression flat.  “He’s not even old enough to have a permit in most countries where they’re  _ legal _ .  Japan, if you’ll recall, is not one of those countries.  And that Edogawa child you’re so wary of is a relative of his.”

“Look, never mind which detectives,” Kaito said.  “They’re good at what they do and I don’t think they’re going to turn on me.”

Jii’s expression turned serious.  “Do _ not _ get involved with Kudou _ -kun _ , Young Master.  I don’t know exactly what sort of trouble he’s found, but an old acquaintance of mine is a family friend of his, and he says it’s nothing good.  You have enough difficulties of your own.”

Kaito grimaced.   _ Yeah, and they’re difficulties with the same exact people as Kudou _ .

Jii raised an eyebrow.  “Young Master.  You aren’t telling me something else.  What is it?”

“I’m not saying that Kudou is one of the detectives I’m involved with,” Kaito said, wincing.   _ Don’t like lying to Jii, but I don’t like the idea of telling Jii something that could put him and Kudou in danger.  Both of them have enough stress. _  “But...it’s a long story, but maybe I know something about what kind of trouble he found, and it  _ probably  _ involves friends of the people shooting at me.”

Jii pursed his lips.  “That would explain a great deal, yes,” he said quietly.  He gave Kaito a searching look.  “You aren’t planning anything with Kudou _ -kun _ beyond looking for Hakuba _ -kun _ , right?”

“I said it wasn’t Kudou!” Kaito protested.

“Yes, of course,” Jii said, with a patronizing smile.

“But no, any detectives I  _ am _ working with, I’m only working with to find Hakuba,” Kaito said.  “Any information we shared, we shared because it was relevant to Hakuba _ ’ _ s case.”

“But you did share information,” Jii said.  “Young Master,  _ be careful _ .”

“I will be, I swear,” Kaito said.  

“I would be more convinced were it not a few days after a heist we both know you should never have even  _ attempted  _ to hold,” Jii said, tone deceptively mild once again.

“I...I wasn’t thinking, about who’d be worried and how dangerous it would be,” Kaito admitted.  “I am now.  Does that count for something?”

“Perhaps,” Jii said.  “It might count for a bit more if you were to spend the evening here, where I could keep an eye on you.”

Kaito smiled sheepishly.  “I didn’t even bring my homework!” he protested.

Jii gave him an unimpressed look.  “Are we pretending, now, that it won’t take you an hour to complete when you get home?”

Kaito slumped in defeat, keeping a smile on his face all the while.  “I guess not.”

“Good,” Jii said.

“So,” Kaito ventured.  “Did you change your mind about letting me try the alcohol that tastes like chocolate?”

Jii gave him a flat stare.  “No.”

“But—”

“Young master, you are below the drinking age.”

“Awwww….”

“But I do have chocolate syrup and a shaved ice machine, so if you’d like…”

Kaito grinned.

Jii gave him a suspicious look.  “Was that your goal all along?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Kaito sing-songed, leaning across the bar as Jii sighed and got the syrup out of the mini-fridge beneath it.

_Thanks_ , _ Jii-san, _ he thought, grinning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will get us back to the main plot a little, so please look forward to it! 
> 
> I appreciated last chapter’s reviews so much, and any others you’d be willing to leave would be equally appreciated.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look it's the plot! There are a few useful cultural notes in the end note, but no serious content warnings. Some unpleasant speculation from the detectives, at the very worst. Enjoy!

A little less than a week since KID’s disaster of a heist, things had settled back to normal. Except, of course, Shinichi reflected, for the looming deadline—in a few days, solved case or not, Hattori would _have_ to go back to Osaka and attend school.  Shinichi would be headed back to kiddy school himself, and at this point, he rather suspected that KID was in much the same situation.  The man couldn’t look that much like him out of costume and be past college age.

They were all feeling the pressure at this point, but there wasn’t much they could do to hurry along their investigations.

At least KID was looking a little better.  Granted, he’d still shown up in the guise of a sick housewife, facemask and all, but he was moving more naturally now.

Shinichi sighed to himself.  In the end, either they’d get a break in the case, or they wouldn’t.  He turned back to scanning his browser’s translations of the headlines of the news coming from Omsk.

_Police preparing to raid warehouse in downtown Omsk_ , the first result read.  The second, _Omsk citizens asked to remain inside during mysterious police operation_.

Shinichi’s breath caught in his throat.  “I’ve got something,” he said, half unbelieving.

KID, who had claimed Hattori’s chair by way of injury, suddenly sat up straight.

“What, exactly?” Eisuke asked, even as Hattori loomed over Shinichi’s shoulder.

“Warehouse raid, downtown,” Hattori said, before Shinichi could.  “Police ain’t givin’ details.  This looks _good_.”

“So say he’s in Omsk,” KID said.  “It’s a big city.  And _we_ aren’t there.  How do we get to him?”

“We’ll need to draw him out,” Shinichi said, thinking furiously.   _If there’s a raid, if he was part of setting it up…either he impersonated a plainclothes officer or called in a tip to start this.  Which would he do?_

“KID—if you were going to start something like this, would you call in a tip, or impersonate an officer and then ‘stumble’ onto it?” Shinichi asked.

“I’d call it in,” KID said.  “Less risk, to me and to the poor guy I’m impersonating, if it goes south.”

“So he calls in a tip and they investigate,” Hattori started.

“Not just any tip, though,” Eisuke said.  “They’re keeping it quiet.  He must have warned them not to give details of the reasons for the raid.”

“Do you think he told them the truth?” Shinichi asked, confused.

“If I were him, I woulda checked out the police while I was doin’ everything else,” Hattori said.

“But if there’s enough members of _Them_ that my contact mentioned it, there almost have to be members in the police,” KID said.  “Even if I’m sure he was careful to go to the clean police officers, he shouldn’t have been bold enough to risk them letting something slip to their dirty colleagues.  So…maybe he gave a false reason for keeping the reason for the raid quiet?”

“Russia’s government doesn’t have the best history with cover-ups,” Shinichi said.  “If he implied the national government didn’t want it whatever was in there to be publicized…”

“And there are some legitimate reasons to keep a police raid,” Hattori said.  “If he convinced ‘em there were weapons, ‘specially big ones, in there—they might be trying to avoid scarin’ the civilians into a riot.”

“But that doesn’t help us track him down,” KID said, frustrated.

“ _Data, data, data,_ ” Shinichi quoted absently.  “ _I can’t make bricks without clay_.  We need to know the plan, not just what the plan is most likely to be.”

“Are you planning to call Hakuba and ask him?” KID asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” Shinichi said.  “I’m planning to ask the Chief of Police in Omsk.” He glanced down the page.  “Komarov Wassily, it looks like.” He glanced up again, holding the eyes of the other teenagers.  “We can only do so much with speculation.  Once we know what the plan is, we should be able to figure out what Hakuba was trying to do, and maybe where he is.”

“We can’t jus’ call an’ say, ‘We’re unofficially lookin’ fer a missin’ kid who’s unbelievably good at disguises, I’d ask ya if you’ve seen ‘im but you probably wouldn’t know if you had an’ neither would we because we ain’t seen his real face,’” Hattori said.

KID perked up.  “Are you suggesting we lie?”

“I don’t see how we can avoid it,” Shinichi said. “In this case, we’re protecting KID as a witness, and the police themselves, since the truth about Hakuba and his disappearance involves a dangerous amount of _Them_.”

“Then there’s two options,” Eisuke said.  “Either we say that he’s a criminal, or that he’s an innocent informant the Japanese police want back.  Either way, we have to be _careful_.  I don’t see how we _could_ do this without claiming we have the police on our side, but if we do that and mess it up, we could screw up relations between the Russian and Japanese police long-term.”

“If we say he’s a criminal, they’ll be ready for what he can do,” Hattori said, frowning.

“It doesn’t sit right with me,” KID said, actually looking a bit uncomfortable.  “He _is_ a critic, after all.”

“If we say he’s a criminal, we run the risk of them deciding to arrest him under _their_ laws,” Shinichi said.

“An’ then we wait fer the Superintendent-Gen’ral to kill us,” Hattori said.

“Pretty much,” Shinichi said.  “Innocent informant it is.”

“I’m assuming you plan to do the talking?” KID asked.

Shinichi nodded.  “I don’t know Russian, but my English is pretty good—and at least some officers should speak that, to deal with tourists.  And I’ve solved a few cases overseas, so I’m the most likely to have an international reputation that _isn’t_ for grand theft.”

KID looked back at him with eyes alight, unrepentant.

“My English is still better,” Heiji grumbled.

“Um, Kudou _-san_ , not to be impolite, but, you’re a _child_ ,” Eisuke said.  “He…might not take you seriously.”

Shinichi blinked.  “Oh, that’s right, you’ve only seen me use the voice-changer for Mouri!”

“It _is_ in the bowtie, right?” KID asked.  “I’ve kind of wanted to watch you do this for a long time now, honestly.” He settled into his seat, eyes bright with anticipation.  “Anyone have popcorn?”

“Voice-changer?” Eisuke asked weakly. “Bowtie?”

“Professor Agasa made it for me,” Shinichi practically chirped, relishing Eisuke’s widened eyes, as he took it off and then dug in his pocket for his “Shinichi” phone.

“I knew it was ventriloquism, but, honestly…” Eisuke muttered faintly.

“Anything else before I make the call?” he asked the room.

“If ya want ta give us time to make a plan, we’ll need an excuse for that, too,” Hattori said.

“I can say I’m gathering information for the actual police,” Shinichi said.  “I’ll say I need to report to them, hang up, and we can call them back once we’ve figured something out.”

“That makes it more plausible that you’d be the one calling, too,” Eisuke said with a nod.

“Okay, then, I’m making the call,” Shinichi said.

He glanced at the computer screen for the police department’s number, dialed, then wedged the phone between his shoulder and his cheek as he listened to the phone ring.  Flicking the voice-changer to his own voice was so familiar it practically didn’t require thought anymore; the slight bitterness at needing a gadget just to sound like himself was just as familiar.

A rush of unfamiliar consonants greeted him.

“ _Hello, does anyone speak English_?” he asked, enunciating carefully.

There was more conversation he couldn’t understand, some rustling, and then, an answer.  “ _My name is Officer Medvedev_ ,” a deep-voiced woman said.  “ _Can I help you?”_

“ _Hello, my name is Kudou Shinichi,”_ Shinichi said, and just the act of saying that was at once satisfying and just a little nervewracking.  “ _I am a representative of the Japanese Police, and I need to speak with Chief of Police Komarov.”_

“ _Chief Komarov is very busy today,_ ” Medvedev said.  “ _Please call again later_.”

“ _I am sorry, but this is very urgent,_ ” Shinichi said.  “ _I need to speak with him right away._ ”

The woman was silent for a few seconds.  “ _You can talk to Chief Komarov.  I will get him.  Please stay on the line_.”

He was waiting for at least a minute before an older man’s voice crackled through the phone’s speakers.  “ _I am Chief Komarov_.   _You are Shinichi?_ ”

_Right_ , _name order_ , Shinichi thought with a wince _._ “ _Uh, Kudou, sir,_ ” he said.  “ _I work with the Japanese police.  They asked me to call because we think an informant for one of our cases is in your city._ ”

“ _What do you want me to do about this_?” Komarov asked.“ _I am very busy today.  There is a big operation; you have read the news._ ”

“ _Exactly_ ,” Shinichi said _._ “ _We need to get our informant back right away, if we can.   We have only just tracked him to your city, and we were about to ask permission to send our people in to search for him when we heard about your operation.  We do not want to interfere with your plans, so we wanted to ask what exactly you are doing, so we know how we can proceed_.”

“ _How do I know that you are really with the Japanese Police?_ ” Komarov asked, suddenly suspicious.   _“This is a very sensitive operation.  If details go to the wrong people…_ ”

“ _I understand completely_ ,” Shinichi said.  “ _If you are near a computer, you should be able to search my name. In the Roman alphabet, it's spelled, er, K-U-D-O-U S-H-I-N-I-C-H-I.”_

Komarov was silent for a few seconds.  “ _Quite a record for a young person,_ ” he finally said.“ _I will explain.  We received an anonymous tip about a number of linked criminal operations in the city.  Mostly drugs and smuggling.  After that, a file from an anonymous email address, filled with case files that look like they could have come from inside the station—enough evidence to arrest at least fifty people.  We try to trace both, but nothing works, so we check the files and they are good.  These are the basis for what we are doing._

_“All the police in Omsk have been brought in, except for the bare minimum needed for patrol,_ ” he continued. “ _Some of the files implicated police, so they will be separated into a squad with officers I trust and then arrested in the station, after the rest have been sent out. The other police will be divided into four groups, one for each location we have.  Each group will have riot police to surround the exits, while other officers enter the locations and make arrests._ ”

“ _The tipper gave us a time to make the raid_ ,” Komarov added _._ “ _Precise down to the second—about an hour from now, to be exact.  He also recommended protective clothing, and advised us not to publicize the raid, because the people we were targeting had the means to leave the country if they knew what was going to happen._ ”

“ _Was going to all the locations at the same time your idea, or the tipper’s?”_ Shinichi asked.

“ _I was under the impression that Japan was a polite nation_ ,” Komarov said stiffly.

Shinichi felt his cheeks heat.“ _I am sorry, I know that was rude, but it is important._ ”

“ _If you feel it is that important, yes, that was his idea,_ ” Komarov said.

“ _Thank you so much for the information,_ ” Shinichi said.  “ _I need to share it with the rest of the team.  Is there a number you can be reached at, once they’ve made a decision?_ ”

Komarov gave him a number; Shinichi ran it through his head a few times so it would move into his long-term memory.  He managed a few more pleasantries before hanging up, scrawling the number onto the nearest available piece of paper, and then looking up at everyone.

“It’s definitely him,” he said, switching back to Japanese.  “Hakuba, that is.  He must not be expecting people to be after him; he’s being _obvious_.”

KID blinked.  “Obvious how?”

“He gave times down to the second,” Shinichi said, smirking.

KID’s reply was jubilant.  “We _found_ him!  So, what else do you know?”

Shinichi carefully summarized what he’d been told, minding his word choice and making certain not to forget the details.  Framed by the edges of the phone screen, Eisuke leaned forward, brows furrowing, while KID crossed his arms and let his disguise’s bangs fall to shade eyes that had instantly turned serious.  Hattori, meanwhile, just gave a tight grin of determination and turned his cap around.

“We know where he is an’ what he’s doin’,” Hattori said.  “The ball’s in our court, now.” He let out a small huff of air.  “Exact times aside, though, this ain’t like ‘im.  That many simultaneous raids—that’s reckless as _h***_.  If he isn’t hittin’ the power centers, exactly, that city’s gonna pay for it.”

“No, it’s exactly like him,” Shinichi said.  “How many times have you called him arrogant? He thinks he’s found them all, and he’s hitting them all, so that no one’s left to get the others out or retaliate.”

“Unless it ain’t all of them,” Hattori said.

“How much research did we get done in the last month?” Eisuke asked rhetorically.  “And how much more could he have done, even alone, considering that he was probably doing it all the time and not through legal means?”

“Okay, okay,” Hattori said.  “Say this is all of them.  What’s the point, though?  There’s still more o’ _Them_ out there.  Taking all of _Their_ people in a city out in one day’s just gonna attract attention to Omsk.”

“Or scare _Them_ ,” KID said quietly.  “If he really was trained the same way I was…this is a mind game.  It’s a show of power.  He could’ve done it anywhere; the point is to say, ‘You can be beaten.’ To make them doubt their invulnerability.”

“ _They_ aren’t going to like that,” Shinichi said.

“If that’s the point, then the exact time thing might not be Hakuba being Hakuba,” KID said.  “There are a lot of tricks that require timing.”

“You think he’s going to set off smoke bombs or something?” Shinichi asked.

“This ain’t KID, we don’t know for sure they’re gonna be _smoke_ ,” Hattori said darkly.

Shinichi swallowed, throat suddenly dry. _That’s right.  KID’s skills…but we don’t know if he’s particularly concerned about people getting hurt._

“He said the police should be wearing protective clothing,” Eisuke pointed out.

“He’s a police officer’s kid, like me, he’d know they always would for an operation like this,” Hattori said.  “I hate ta say it, but it might be something like that.”

KID blanched.

“At least he’s protectin’ the cops,” Hattori said.

“I’d much rather no one needed protecting,” KID said stiffly.

“Okay, okay, so he might be doing something dangerous,” Shinichi said.  “He would disguise as a plainclothes cop under those circumstances, right?”

KID nodded, slowly.  “If _Tantei_ - _han_ is even vaguely correct, he’ll be onsite for wherever the most people are in danger and have cameras at the other places.  He…if he would be _any_ less careful with explosives, I don’t even…no.  He wouldn’t.” He took a breath.  “I honestly can’t believe he would.  Using explosives isn’t—” He broke off, shaking his head, eyes shaded by the bangs of his wig.  “But your deductions make sense, and I guess it’s worth being prepared for the worst.”

“He got some kind of baggage with explosions?” Hattori asked, eyes narrowing.  “Or is that jus’ you?”

“If you try to broach that subject right now, I will come to Osaka and cover everything you own in orange and black glitter,” KID said, eyes just a bit harder than they’d been a second ago.

“I was jus’—” Hattori started.

“Now’s not the time,” Eisuke interrupted.  “So, plainclothes cop disguise.”

“That means he’s in the station right now,” Shinichi said.

“An’ that if he gets out, we lose ‘im—because we don’t have enough information ta know which location he’ll go to, and Komarov won’t give it ta us, either,” Hattori said, leaning back with crossed arms.  “So we gotta get him _now_.”

“He’s probably already in disguise,” Eisuke said, frowning.

“Then we just need to get him out of it,” Shinichi said.

KID raised an eyebrow.  “I’m ignoring the innuendo I could’ve made there in favor of reminding you that Nakamori has enough trouble getting people to strip down when he has a note from me as evidence that there’s probably someone in disguise around.”

Shinichi rolled his eyes.  “There’s no way we’re convincing Komarov one of his people is in disguise.  Not when he barely knows who I am and thinks I’m a little rude.  Hakuba’s got to be the one who takes off the disguise, himself, willingly.  The trick is convincing him to.”

“He’s jumped continents illegally and dumped all of his legal identification,” KID said.  “I don’t think saying ‘please’ is going to work.”

“I was thinking something more like telling Komarov that we think he’s likely to be near the warehouses and that they should search around them before they actually do the raid,” Shinichi said.

“That’ll tip _Them_ off,” Eisuke said, voice hushed.

“Hakuba will either have to pop out of the woodwork or watch the whole plan go up in smoke,” Hattori said.  “I like it.”

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you’re _scary_ , _Tantei-kun_ ,” KID said. “If your plan doesn’t work?  We don’t have Hakuba, and you just flushed weeks of his work against _Them_ down the drain.”

“How else do we get him, then?” Shinichi asked.

KID didn’t reply.

“Call ‘im,” Hattori said.  “Now.  Raid starts in an hour, but Komarov didn’t give locations an’ we don’t know how long it takes ‘is people to move out.”

Shinichi nodded and started dialing.  His heart was thudding in his chest, and he was trying desperately not to forget any of the English he’d need for this exchange.

He could feel the others watching.  There was a hint of disapproval to KID’s gaze, but Shinichi shrugged it off—the man was easily the most soft-hearted criminal he’d ever met, and sometimes, soft-hearted methods weren’t _enough_.  Eisuke’s worried eyes weighed a bit more, because Shinichi _was_ aware of the gamble he was making, and the disaster he could be creating if this all went sideways.   Hattori’s stare was determined and intent, and the confidence weighed just as much—Hattori backing his plan up with this little argument was unusual.  Shinichi had to make it _count_.

Once again, he wedged the phone between his shoulder and cheek and picked up the bowtie.   _Time to be Shinichi again._

“ _Hello again, Kudou_ ,” Komarov said. “ _Have the Japanese police reached a decision?_ ”

“Yes, _”_ Shinichi said.  “ _We think our informant probably went to one of the areas around the places you’re planning to raid.  If you would have your men check the surrounding areas before you conduct the raids, we would be very grateful._ ”

“ _So the informant is a criminal?_ ” Komarov asked.

“ _No_ ,” Shinichi said.  “ _He is a normal person who helped with a case.  But he is likely to have noticed the criminal activity in these places, and he might even be trying to find out about it.  He left Japan because he thought he was in danger, not because he didn’t want to work with the police_.”

“ _I understand_ ,” Komarov said.  “ _Can you give me a description?_ ”

Shinichi froze, then remembered that if his plan worked and Hakuba showed up, it would be disguised in his normal appearance.

“ _He is tall,_ ” Shinichi winced as a paper airplane hit him in the shoulder.  He glanced at it, saw writing on the wing, and amended, “ _He is 180 centimeters tall, half-Japanese and half-English, with brown eyes and dark blond hair.”_

He glanced up and glared at KID as Komarov made a soft humming sound.

“ _I’ll have my lieutenant give the order,_ ” Komarov said.

Something brushed against the speaker—probably Komarov’s hand—and Shinichi could just barely make out a bit of talking.  Then, Komarov was back.

“ _The order is going out,”_ Komarov said.  “ _We will contact you as soon as we are able.  What is the best number to use?_ ”

Shinichi rattled off the digits, throat dry.

“ _I appreciate your help,_ ” he said slowly.

“ _You are welcome_ ,” Komarov said curtly.  “ _Now, if you will excuse—ah, it seems a person who fits the description you gave has turned up in the station.  I suppose this is what you expected?”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been awhile since my last cliffhanger, hasn’t it?
> 
> The "Data, data, data," quote is, of course, from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories—specifically from "The Adventure of the Copper Beeches," I think.
> 
> As for the cultural notes, when Shinichi mentions the Roman alphabet, he is specifying the alphabet used in English and the Romance languages, as opposed to the alphabet Komarov would normally use (Cyrillic) or the character sets Shinichi would normally use (kanji, kana, or hiragana). Orange and black, the colors of the glitter KID threatens Heiji with, are the colors of the Yomiuri Giants, the rival baseball team to Osaka’s Hanshin Tigers. 
> 
> I treasure reviews, including (even especially) ones that include angry yelling about my writing choices.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No significant warnings on this one, and no notes that can’t wait for the end note. I’ll save everything for that.

“ _You are welcome_ ,” Komarov said curtly.  “ _Now, if you will excuse—ah, it seems a person who fits the description you gave has turned up in the station.  I suppose this is what you expected?”_

“ _I’ll need to speak with him_ ,” Shinichi said, deciding not to answer.   _This is it.  We’re so close…_

A small clatter from KID’s chair had Shinichi looking up to see the thief leaning forward with wide eyes, while Eisuke slumped in obvious relief.  Meanwhile, Hattori just grinned.

“ _That can be arranged quite easily_ ,” Komarov said.  His voice dropped in volume as he continued, “ _You are very fond of traps.  One could almost consider it a weakness.”_

“ _Excuse me?_ ” Shinichi asked, confused.

The answer came in familiar, English-tinged Japanese.  “If our common opponent had checked after your supposed death for your deduction style rather than your face, you would have been found within two weeks, Conan _-kun_.”

Shinichi’s fingers fell slack.  The bowtie slipped through them and landed on the carpet, bouncing once, twice, and then landing, voice-changer up.

“Hakuba,” he said, voice breathless and high-pitched.

Heiji startled and cursed, and Eisuke’s eyes flew wide, while KID’s eyes narrowed and he looked as though he was barely restraining himself from taking the phone.

“Now, that is rude,” Hakuba—and it _was_ Hakuba, it possibly had been him all along—replied.  “And that’s another point—your acting is at times alarmingly bad.  You’ll never convince anyone you’re a real elementary school student if you go around dropping honorifics without a care and giving every third criminal a death glare while in full view of gossiping police officers.”

“Hakuba _-san_ , I appreciate the advice, but you’re the one who suddenly left home,” Shinichi said.  “We don’t know why you left, but if you’re in trouble, or if there’s someone after you, maybe there’s something we can do to help…”

“Well, it’s good to know that you haven’t been told every detail of my life yet,” Hakuba said, tone acidic enough to make Shinichi flinch.  “But I will tend to my own affairs myself.  Does KID seem as though he’d like to speak to me in private?”

“How did you know that KID was—”

“He might as well have sent a card; his fingerprints were all over your plan.  Now, answer my question.”

Shinichi glanced at KID, who was currently making grasping gestures at the phone, with desperation barely hidden under the forced neutrality of his expression.

“Yes.”

“Don’t let him,” Hakuba ordered.  “Put me on speaker.  I’d like Hattori _-san_ to hear this as well.”

_He knows about Hattori too?_

Not knowing what else to do, Shinichi set the phone down on the carpet and pressed the “speaker” button.

Hakuba’s voice was a fierce whisper, hardly distorted by the phone’s speakers.  “All of you are young, bright, promising people with great potential.  Don’t throw away your time on a pointless investigation.  I neither want nor need your help, and I will not be returning to Tokyo or to my life as Hakuba Saguru.  Everyone will be better off if you concern yourself with other cases and leave me to what I am doing.”

KID opened his mouth to speak, but Hakuba continued before he could even form a word.

“If you wish to forcibly detain me, you will have to convince the Russian police that your helpful police-affiliated informant is impersonating their chief of police.  Preferably without creating an international incident.  I doubt you will be successful before I leave the building.”

“As this _will_ be the last time we speak, I will take the opportunity to wish you all the best of luck in your future endeavors. _Goodbye_.” The last word, spoken in English, was followed by the “beep” of Shinichi’s phone announcing that the call had ended.

“No, don’t— _s***!_ ” KID exclaimed, face utterly blank but voice still strained with emotion.

“How the—” Hattori broke off, cursed, and ran a hand through his hair.  “I can’t believe he saw us coming.”

“He didn’t see _us_ coming, he saw _Kudou-san_ coming,” KID corrected, ice to his tone.  “That plan?  It was mostly his.”

_If that’s how we’re going to play it_ , Shinichi thought, anger at KID’s accusations and sudden overwhelming paranoia about how Hakuba had found out his identity churning in the back of his mind until they became something poisonous.

“How about we start with what you haven’t been telling us about Hakuba?” he sneered back.  “He knew I was Conan.”

“Of course he did, idiot, you dropped the bowtie,” KID said.

“That’s _why_ I dropped the bowtie,” Shinichi corrected coldly. “Because he called me _Conan-kun_.”

“The h***?” Hattori said, swinging around to stare at Shinichi.

“He called me Conan _-kun_ and critiqued my acting repeatedly,” Shinichi said.  “He also predicted that KID would want to speak to him privately.  Why is that, exactly?”

KID glowered.  “Part of this arrangement was that I was allowed to keep my secrets.”

“These secrets are seemin’ kinda relevant ta the case!” Hattori snapped.

“He knew KID was here?” Eisuke asked.

“Yeah,” Shinichi said.  “He knew about Hattori too.”

“Okay, that’s it, we need a full summary of that conversation,” Eisuke said, catching and holding Shinichi’s gaze.  “Everything we didn’t hear.  I know your memory’s good enough.”

Shinichi scowled, but nonetheless repeated it all, down to intonation and language switches.  By the end, everyone else was wide-eyed.

“He’s not just scared, he’s angry,” Eisuke said.

“The line in between isn’t always that thick,” Shinichi said absently.

“He’s got a point about you and traps,” Hattori said.

Shinichi glared up at him, ready to snap, but Hattori quickly held up his hands.

“It ain’t a bad method, against yer average criminal, but ya use it so often…it makes sense that he recognized it,” Hattori said.  “He’s seen ya pull it before.”

“It was a good plan!” Shinichi said, defensive.

“If it really was, he wouldn’t have been able to counter it so easily,” Eisuke said carefully. “It’s not that your methods are bad…but I think we really underestimated Hakuba.”

“There’s underestimated, and there’s whatever the h*** that was,” Hattori said.  “He didn’t know we were after him until after we called Komarov the first time, there’s no way.  So he figured out all o’ that on his feet.”

“While putting together a disguise, no less,” KID said.  “I’m certain he didn’t go in there planning to disguise as the police chief—too much risk, not enough potential reward, given the circumstances.  But at some point he put together that disguise and replaced the man.”

“Probably while we were figuring out how to find Hakuba,” Shinichi said, realization almost tangibly bitter in his mouth.   “We could have had any strategy for capturing him when we called back; it wouldn’t have mattered.  Only Hakuba ever heard anything I said from that point on.”

“How’d he _know_ , though?” Eisuke asked.  “You only talked to Komarov before, right?”

“Yeah, but he couldn’t have been Komarov from the beginning, like KID said, impersonating him the whole time would be pointless and risky,” Shinichi said.  He thought for a moment, then smacked himself in the face.  “Ugh, that question about whether the tipper had suggested the timing of the raids!”

“He got annoyed at it, right?” Eisuke said.  “How’s that important?”

“He probably complained afterward,” Shinichi said.  “Just from talking to him that long, I’m going to guess he complained _loudly_.  Loudly enough that a person disguised as a plainclothes cop could easily pick out my name from all that Russian, if he was in the station—and we know he was.”

He swore.  “I’m so used to Inspector Megure and the rest of Division One putting up with weird questions when they know they’ll help solve the case that I forgot not everyone’s used to that.”  He paused.  “No, I forgot not everyone’s willing to deal with it.”  Shame sunk into him like a sudden chill as he dropped his gaze to the carpet. “I screwed up.”

A moment passed in silence.

“I’m not sure any of the rest of us would have done any better,” KID said, a tentative note to his tone.  “We _all_ underestimated him.”

Shinichi glanced at the subtle bits of body language and combined them with the tone and words, and found there, _It wasn’t just your fault and I shouldn’t have blamed you_.

He was unexpectedly gratified.  Still…

“Maybe, but I’m the one who _did_ screw up,” Shinichi said.

“All right, so you screwed up,” Hattori said.  “That’s bad, but it’s good that ya know what ya did.  Now you can avoid doin’ it again, an’ we can learn from it too.  But goin’ over’n over it’s kinda pointless.  We should be talkin’ about what ta do next.”

“Like what?” KID asked, voice slightly strained.  “He’s right, isn’t he?  We can’t call them again and say he’s disguising as the chief of police.   Assuming he still is.”

“No, we can’t,” Hattori said.  “He slipped us.  We ain’t getting’ him in Omsk.  First step is acceptin’ that.  Sometimes part of an investigation is hittin’ an obstacle an’ regroupin’.”

“This isn’t an obstacle, it’s a dead end,” KID said flatly.  “We have _no idea_ where he’s going, and now that he knows we’re after him he’ll be hiding even better than before.”

“Thinking like that’s not going to help anything,” Eisuke said firmly.  “We’ll get another lead.  We’ll figure this out.  If you want to find him, KID, you have to accept that this might take longer than you expected.  Can you do that?”

KID took a breath.  “Yeah.  Yeah I can.”

“Hey, we still have one ace up our sleeve,” Shinichi said, smiling for the first time since Hakuba hung up.  “Hondou _-san_.  Hakuba knew about the rest of us, guessed KID and Hattori’s involvements, even, but he’s still never met Hondou _-san_ and he has no idea who he is.”

“So next time we get close, Hondou _-san_ leads,” KID declared.  “Hakuba will have less of a chance of predicting him.”

It chafed, just slightly, but KID was right.  “That’s a good idea.”

“Considerin’ puttin’ me in charge’ll have the same problems as Kudou, an’ Hakuba’ll read KID easiest of all…yeah, yeah that’s probably the best plan,” Hattori said.

Eisuke took a shaky breath.  “I’ll do my best, I guess,” he said.  He paused for a few seconds.  “Kudou _-san_ , about Hakuba _-san_ knowing you were Conan…do you have _any_ idea how that happened?”

Shinichi took a breath, and thought about it.  “There’s…a memory I have, that I can’t explain,” he said.  “I remember hearing a person with an accent like Hakuba’s, cursing, while I was turning from Shinichi to Conan or back again.  I can’t remember _when_ , though.”

“ _You_ can’t?” Hattori asked, in obvious confusion.  “Your memory’s usually pretty precise.”

Shinichi winced.  “The transitions don’t usually stay with me very well,” he said.  He took a deep breath.  “The pain levels are a little…distracting.”

“Ah,” KID said lightly.  “I can speak to the effects of pain on memory after the last month or so.”

Hattori nodded slightly, tight-lipped, then said, “When the _h***_ would that have even happened, though?  Spying on KID is one thing, but spying on _Conan_ , especially if he didn’t know who you were…that’s creepy.”

“Maybe he had suspicions,” Eisuke suggested carefully.  “I thought for sure you were at least a prodigy until you told me what was actually going on.”

“Why would it matter to him, either way, though?” Shinichi said.  “He didn’t have a reason to be interested in me—KID said that Hakuba never interfered with heists I attended.”

“That’s right,” KID said.  “And I’m beginning to think I know why.  Predicting you is one of his newer skills.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hattori asked.

“I believe I ought to apologize,” KID said suddenly.  “Not all of the secrets I’m keeping are entirely for my own protection.  Most are.  But some…there are things I am aware of about Hakuba that he did not give me permission to know.  That’s why he didn’t want to speak to me on the phone, and why he was relieved that _Tantei-kun_ didn’t know ‘all of his secrets.’  I don’t think those things are important enough to finding Hakuba to risk the possible outcomes of telling you them.”

“Which are?” Shinichi prompted, more curious than anything.

The brief flash of anger earlier aside, he was surprised to find that he really did trust KID.  Which was…disquieting at best, and he needed to examine it, but in the meantime, the matter at hand was most important.

“He values his privacy,” KID said.  “I’m worried that if he thinks he won’t have it anymore he won’t come back.  I’m worried that thinking he’d already lost it is part of why he left.”

“So the information could help us find him but it could also be the reason all our efforts to convince him to come back fail,” Eisuke said.

“Yeah,” KID said.  “For right now, I still don’t think it’s worth the risk.”

“Ya trust him more’n I do,” Hattori said.  “I’m not sure I love the idea of lettin’ ya make that decision.  An’ if he gets outta control I expect ya ta at least reconsider it.  But I’ll let it go fer now.”

KID nodded.

“I can trust your judgment for the time being,” Shinichi said.

KID nodded, and he knew that the apology he’d meant to give had been received.

“I agree,” Eisuke said.  “There’s one other thing, though—this means we’re going to have to continue the investigation after Hattori returns to school.  Are we going to have to meet less frequently?”

“Yes, if for no other reason than on my account,” Shinichi said.  “I can come up with a project I’m working on with the professor, but Ran will probably only be okay with me going over to his house and staying out late a few nights a week.  When Hattori’s here, she trusts him to be looking out for me, but if I’m going to the professor’s she knows I’m walking around alone at night.”

“Let’s not figure that out right away,” Hattori said.  “We’re all tense as it is.”

“Want to at least find out how Hakuba’s plan is going?” Eisuke asked.

“I guess if we can’t get him back here, it would be nice to at least know he’s getting some of _Them_ arrested,” KID said.

“Yeah,” Hattori agreed.

Shinichi moved back to his laptop and woke it up, wincing as the top headline for the search “Omsk News” caught his eye.

“Hattori, you were right again,” he said quietly. “ _Explosions outside of multiple warehouses in downtown Omsk, police investigate_.”

“What?” KID whispered.

Shinichi clicked through the article, and let the browser translate it.  The translation was _awful,_ but he could make out some of it at least.

“Structural damage and panic, but no casualties, it looks like,” Shinichi said.  “The police went in after the explosions.  No updates yet on arrests but, given what we know…”

“He gave them a cover,” Eisuke said, half-impressed.

Hattori caught KID’s eye.  “Sure keeping his secrets is worth it?”

“No one was hurt,” KID said.  But his voice was just a little bit shaky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to every Detective Conan fan who’s sick of Shinichi being right every single gorram time, no matter what, even if other characters who are normally just as smart as him have to make OOC mistakes to preserve his reign of correctness. 
> 
> Now that I’ve got that out of my system, there’s art for this on pixiv--specifically, of [Shinichi dropping the bowtie](http://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=57878221). I also want to acknowledge that I know some of KID’s dialogue this time is confusing--he’s coming to realizations he can’t share with the detectives without telling them everything. He’s going to be narrating again in Chapter 15, so if you can’t guess based on the dialogue what he’s thinking, he’ll be clarifying a bit then. If you want to know what the heck Saguru’s thinking, on the other hand, I’m afraid it’ll be a bit longer. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter; I love any and all reviews people choose to leave me, including the kind that are basically screaming (and I realize I’ve earned a few of those this time).


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is being posted late. Not much to say except that there’s gonna be a bit of a break between Omsk and the next bit of rising action...but that doesn’t mean anyone’s standing idle. Still, expect fewer explosions in this chapter and the next. Also, I needed a character in America for Eisuke’s section...but don’t worry; I’m still not planning on letting any OC’s become main characters. 
> 
> The warnings for the chapter are light, but spoilery, so they’re at the end.

Ayumi shrieked with joy as she slid down the slide, Mitsuhiko following close behind.  Genta, still standing at the bottom, just managed to get out of their way before the two bowled him over.

_Good thing, too,_ Shinichi reflected, peering at the three over his copy of _The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_.  Last time Genta had fallen over on the playground, he’d gotten a splinter, cried a little, and then whined about the resulting microscopic wound for a week after Professor Agasa got it out.

Normally, they would’ve dragged him into their game, but he had made it clear that he needed a few minutes to himself before he was ready to run around today.   It was hard to admit it, but the fact that he’d been more-or-less responsible for Hakuba slipping away from their search was still getting under his skin.

Now that school had started again, they couldn’t meet as often.  He and KID were the only ones physically present, for that matter—both Heiji and Eisuke had to be “present” via technology now.  And if they’d just _gotten_ Hakuba back then, instead of Shinichi messing everything up, none of this would be a problem.

“I’m guessing it’s not Holmes’s case that has you stumped,” Ai said, jarring Shinichi from his thoughts as she sat down next to him.

Reluctant, Shinichi shook his head. _I guess we had to have this conversation eventually_.

“It’s the case Hattori and I have been working on,” Shinichi said.

“Still?” she asked.  “It’s been more than a month.”  She narrowed her eyes.  “Does it have to do with _Them_?”

Shinichi took a breath.  “Not how you think.”  He held up a hand before Ai could start scolding him.  “We aren’t investigating _Them_.  I would have said _something_ ,” he added, not quite honestly.   _Well, I would have, eventually.  When she forced it out of me_.

“Then what is it?” she hissed, grabbing his wrist.

Shinichi pulled his hand away from her.  “Someone else is, and we’re trying to find him and _stop_ him, before he messes up and brings down the wrong kind of attention.”

Ai let her hand drop, blinking at him in surprise.  “Well, that’s a first.  I didn’t know you were _capable_ of caution without me threatening you into it.”

“For this, I can be,” Shinichi said, grim-faced.  “It’s Hakuba Saguru, the teenage detective who went missing a while ago.”

Ai frowned.  “He’s on the KID Task Force.”

Shinichi grinned, wide, thin, and joyless.  “His adoptive father is _Superintendent-General_ Hakuba, of the Tokyo Police.  If _They_ find him, and decide to go after everyone he knows…”

Ai cursed, flinching back and fisting a hand in the hem of her shirt.

Shinichi grabbed her other hand.  “We’re _going_ to find him.”

“It’s taken you long enough!” Ai said, voice nearly rising above a whisper.  “Normally, _serial killers_ take you and Hattori _-san_ two days at the outside.”

“He’s smart,” Shinichi admitted.  “But we’re doing everything we can.  Trapping him is the hard part—we’ve got a method of tracking him and we’re hoping it keeps working.”

“And if he does get in trouble with _Them_?” Ai demanded, pulling her hand away from his.  “What then?”

“I’ll be in danger, but you won’t be,” Shinichi said.  “He’s never so much as met you.  But he knows about me, and I have no idea how.  That’s another reason we have to find him.”

“Knows—knows you’re Kudou?” Ai demanded.  “You need to be more _careful_!”

“Not sure how that would’ve helped,” Shinichi said. “He saw me shrink, and I don’t know when—but other than that first time, I’ve been careful to do it someplace private, or at least someplace deserted.”

“And you don’t know which time?” Ai asked.  She made a soft humming noise.  “Then again, I suppose you wouldn’t.  You don’t remember the changes very well either, do you?”

Shinichi shook his head.

Ai grimaced.  “This conversation is too private for us to have here.  We’re going back to the professor’s.”

“But—the kids—”  Shinichi started, as Ai grabbed his wrist again and started dragging him in the direction of Agasa’s house.

“I’ll tell them it was your idea to ditch them,” Ai said with a smirk in her voice.

About a half-hour later, settled into Agasa’s lab, Ai leaned forward.  “So, the superintendent-general’s missing son is going after the Black Organization, and he knows you’re Kudou.”

Shinichi could only nod miserably.

“And you felt no need to tell me about any of this?” Ai asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I thought we’d track him down faster!” Shinichi said.

“Well, you didn’t!” Ai said, scowling.  “And if he gets caught, no matter what he does or doesn’t know about me, I’m in danger from association with you!”

“Well excuse me!” Shinichi snapped.  Then, he took a deep breath.  “No, no, you’re right.  But—I didn’t even know he knew who I was until a little while ago.  And we still know next to nothing about him.”

Ai gave him an odd look.  “You’ve described him to me before, in some detail,” she said.  “Blond, half-Japanese, fond of Sherlock Holmes cosplay, proud owner of a hawk named Watson, obsessed with KID…really, I’m surprised the two of you didn’t strike up a friendship.”

Shinichi managed a tired laugh.  “The hawk and the KID obsession are accurate,” he said.  “We don’t know about the rest of it.  Hakuba’s complicated.”

Ai narrowed her eyes.

Conan slumped.  “I don’t know if anyone mentioned it to you, but he’s adopted, and you know about as much as the superintendent-general does about his birth parents.”

“I don’t know _anything_ about his—” Ai broke off.  “Oh.”

Conan managed a thin, sharp grin.  “Exactly.  Hakuba knows all sorts of things the KID Task Force didn’t teach him, he actually slipped us when we nearly had him cornered, and it all has something to do with his past, I’m sure of it.  Like I said, we’re _going_ to find him.” He took a breath.  “But there are ways you could help.”

Ai nodded, a little hesitantly.

“One of the people I’m working with told me something, and if you could verify it, it might help some of Hakuba’s motivations make a little more sense,” he said.   _Well, that, and it will help me know for certain whether KID is being honest.  I want to trust him, but…I know he’s willing to lie too, and that freaks me out._

“What exactly do you think I can verify?” Ai asked.

“It’s about _Them_ ,” Shinichi said.

Ai frowned, tight-lipped.  “I’ll try,” she said, softly.

“Remember that island with the mermaid legend?” Shinichi said.  “You said _They_ sent you there to study those legends.  Did…did they do things like that a lot?”

Ai cocked her head to one side, the tension in her posture melting off.  “Like _what_?”

“Looking into legends and things,” Shinichi pressed.  “Taking them seriously.”

Ai worried her lower lip in thought.  “Yes. We were instructed to treat myths and ‘legendary objects’ as though they might hold some sort of undiscovered compound or unknown information.”

Shinichi tried not to look skeptical.  From Ai’s laugh, he didn’t succeed.

“Think about it this way, Rational-Detective- _san_ ,” Ai said.  “Many types of medicine were derived from folk remedies.  And those folk remedies…well, at some point, someone had to eat a plant or berry or piece of bark while they were ill or in pain, and then notice that it helped.  Some peoples certainly did decide those plants were magic in some way.  It’s only through modern science that we’re able to understand how they work.”

“So, you’re saying that we just might not understand how the things described in those legends _They_ were interested in work?” Shinichi asked.

“The fact that we don’t understand it yet doesn’t mean it’s false or impossible,” Ai said blandly.  “So, yes, I was asked to look into things you might find ridiculous.”

“Ever hear anything about jewels?” Shinichi asked.

Ai narrowed her eyes.  “No.  Does this have to do with KID?”

Shinichi held up his hands quickly.  “O-of course not!”

Ai sighed.  “Don’t drag him into this.  You’re in enough trouble already.  Did you have any other questions?”

Shinichi paused, not sure how to approach the topic.

Ai narrowed her eyes.  “Kudou…” she said warningly.

“There’s a chance…given some of the things we know about Hakuba, that he might be like you,” Shinichi said.

“Like me,” Ai repeated carefully.

“A child who was raised as one of _Them_ and escaped when they were older,” Shinichi said.

“He’s been on television,” Ai said, dismissive.

Shinichi weighed his words carefully, then took a risk.  “So has Vermouth.”

“You think he’s changed his appearance.”

“We know he has.”

Ai’s eyes were dark.  “If he’s going after _Them_ , and he really _is_ like me, he knows well enough what _They’re_ like to know that he probably won’t come back.  So either he’s taken measures to keep the people he left behind safe, or he doesn’t care if they die.  In either case, it might not be worth going after him.”

Shinichi frowned.  “I’m sorry, but I can’t think like that.  I have to at least try to help him.  And...even if he doesn’t care if they die, we have to.”

“You get idealistic at the most inconvenient times, Kudou _-kun_ ,” Ai said, frowning right back.  “Don’t forget, if Hakuba does bring down their wrath on the Tokyo police, your neck will be the first one on the line.  All of the officers know at this point—if that Edogawa child points something out, it’s important.  How long would it take _Their_ infiltrators to connect that to Kudou Shinichi and the apotoxin, do you think?”

She grinned humorlessly, eyebrows rising into her bangs.  “You should figure that out, _Meitantei_ , because that’s how long you’ll have to run before they kill us both and everyone you care about with us.”

Shinichi swallowed.   _She’s terrified, and she’s partly right, but you can’t let her make you irrational_ , he told himself.

“If we find him, first, none of that happens,” he said firmly.  “But, what I needed to ask you—did you know any of the other children there?”

To his dismay, Ai shook her head.  “They kept us isolated,” she said quietly.  “I spent time with a few other children, but they all became researchers, and the ones who weren’t killed weren’t good at anything but research.  I can’t imagine them figuring out how to escape, much less a way to disguise their appearances or how to be a murder detective.”

“Are you certain?” Shinichi pressed.

Ai glared at him, and then he processed her words fully— _the ones who weren’t killed_.

“I’m sorry,” he said, weakly.      

“I hope your theory is wrong,” Ai replied, not meeting his eyes.  “There are other reasons to go after _Them_.”

Shinichi could have brought up the evidence he had for Hakuba being a former member of the Black Org.  But he couldn’t bring himself to say any of it aloud.  Ai was absolutely right—it would be better for everyone if he was wrong, this time.

_Maybe I could make a streak of it, after Omsk,_ he thought, with a twist of dark humor.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Eisuke rubbed sleepily at his eyes and then scratched out the answer to yet another math problem.

“Still not done?” a voice that had become familiar over the last two weeks asked.

Eisuke grinned at his new neighbor, a Japanese-American twentysomething named Kiyoshi Rogers.  He was currently at her kitchen table, since she’d started inviting him over for dinner a few nights a week since she moved in.  Of course, the first time, it had been because he’d actually managed to cut his head open on her doorframe by tripping over her doormat, and, she’d offered dinner by way of apology. He’d been a little too lonely and hungry to refuse more than once, and somehow, he’d ended up spending most of his afternoons at her place.

Okay, he knew how.  Her eyes were dark, not pale blue, and she wore her hair in loose braids instead of a tight ponytail, but there was an air about her that made him think of Hidemi.

“Almost,” Eisuke replied.  “Just a few more problems.”

“Good,” Kiyoshi replied.  “The hamburger steaks are almost done, and the rice is on ‘warm’ already.  And you’d _better_ not insist on working until the food gets cold—all this Japanese food is for you, you know.  If I buy hamburger, I just make hamburgers out of it.” She made a huffing noise.  “But I had a friend who really liked making this stuff, so I do know how, at least.”

Okay, so she was a little more… _opinionated_ than Hidemi, at least compared to the last time Eisuke had talked to her.  Then again, Hidemi had been infiltrating a group of murderers and thieves who trained children; she could be even more opinionated than Kiyoshi now.  Eisuke had no way of knowing how she’d change by the time she got out.  Assuming she did.

Kiyoshi wasn’t back in the kitchen.  Instead, she was still standing over the table, her gaze focused on Eisuke.

“Must be some math problem,” she drawled.

Eisuke forced a laugh.  “Yeah, yeah it is,” he agreed.   _It’s not as if I could tell her_ , he told himself.   _And it’s not like she’ll notice that I’m not being honest_.

If there was one thing that growing up at Okudaira Mansion had taught him to do, it was to pretend everything was fine.  His mother’s employers had been sympathetic when he’d been diagnosed with leukemia, and they’d given his mother leave when necessary to take him to appointments…but they’d expected his illness to have a minimal impact on their lives.  And that meant that Eisuke’s mother couldn’t go around the house looking worried or sad, and Eisuke couldn’t be grumpy or sulky at them because he didn’t feel well. In a way, it had been good training for going to Tokyo to find Hidemi.

“That’s a bad habit to get into,” Kiyoshi said.

“What is?” Eisuke asked, honestly confused.

“Smiling every time someone asks you what’s wrong,” Kiyoshi said, crossing her arms over her chest.  “There are times you really have to do it, but if you just default to doing it 100% of the time, you can screw yourself up pretty well.”

“Eh?” Eisuke asked.  Sometimes Kiyoshi’s English got a bit too fast and slang-filled for him.

_“It isn’t good to pretend you don’t have feelings, Eisuke_ -kun,” Kiyoshi said, her Japanese slow and painstaking—she said she’d learned some from a grandmother and the rest in university some years ago.   _“If you’re always smiling or always acting angry, it’s the same…you aren’t having the real feelings you want to have.  You aren’t showing that part of yourself.  So you can end up feeling like you’re always hiding yourself.  That’s a really lonely way to live. Do you understand?_ ”

Eisuke nodded.

“I’ve seen people do that,” Kiyoshi said briskly, switching back to English.  “It didn’t end well for them.  There are certain jobs where you have to do that, at least some of the time…but you’re a student.  There’s no good reason for you to be hiding your feelings 24/7.” She glared, and poked Eisuke in the chest.  “So _don’t_.”

Eisuke shrank back on instinct.

“The steaks are going to burn, now, because you were making poor life choices,” Kiyoshi said, turning and heading back for the kitchen.

“Uh, sorry?” Eisuke said uncertainly.   _It’s not my fault you decided to scold me!_

The sound of oil hissing and smoking filled the air for a few seconds, a plate clattered on the counter, and then Kiyoshi stomped back into the room.

“Right after the lecture about being honest,” Kiyoshi said.  “I’m disappointed, Eisuke.”

“It’s not that easy to just stop doing—” Eisuke started.

“When you’re _used_ to it,” Kiyoshi said, a vicious twist to her emphasis. “Like I said, it’s a bad habit.  So you have to be deliberate about dropping it.  Stop yourself before you show people a fake smile every time. Take time to think about it if you have to.”

“Look, there are differences between America and Japan,” Eisuke said.

“Don’t you even,” Kiyoshi said.  “You aren’t supposed to talk about personal matters in professional places, yeah, more so than in America, but that’s not the same as _not showing feelings ever_. Are you trying to convince me your country is crazy?”

_She asked for it_ , Eisuke thought grumpily.  “I’m already convinced yours is, so why not?”

“Now, that’s it!” Kiyoshi said, beaming at him.  “Put away your homework and keep that attitude, I’m getting the food.”

Eisuke sighed and gathered his papers up, then carried them over to his schoolbag, which was still leaning against the wall beside his shoes.  When he came to the table, two plates of hamburger steak, rice and steamed vegetables were sitting on it, slightly blurred by the steam slowly rising from them.  Kiyoshi’s place was set with a knife and fork, but she’d apparently gotten Eisuke a pair of disposable chopsticks from the local Chinese restaurant again.  Eisuke was beginning to suspect that she snuck out five or six pairs every time she got takeout in order to have utensils for him, but…he wasn’t really a detective down to the bone the same way Kudou and Hattori were; he could look the other way when it came to something as small as this.

Eisuke sat down and immediately clapped his hands together, “ _Ittadakimasu_.” He looked up at Kiyoshi.  “Thanks for making this,” he added.

“Try to work on the ‘smiling when you don’t mean it’ thing and we’ll call it even,” Kiyoshi said, blowing on a forkful of rice.

“You really aren’t letting go of that,” Eisuke said.

Kiyoshi’s smile turned nostalgic.  “Like I said, I knew some people who it messed up pretty badly.”  She sighed, took another bite of rice, and smiled at Eisuke.  “You’re a good kid, and you have a lot to deal with already, living on your own in a new country.  You don’t need to deal with something like that.”

“I told you, I’m used to living on my own,” Eisuke said, before taking a bite of his vegetables.  “And it’s normal for someone my age back home.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but you’re just _barely_ old enough to have your own apartment here, you’re still in school, and I _know_ the superintendent must’ve asked questions,” Kiyoshi wrinkled her nose.  “He’s nosy.”

“I might have implied my sister was probably going to come live with me eventually,” Eisuke said, sighing.

“You do at least have a sister, right?” Kiyoshi said, cautiously.

_I do, I know I do, it’s only been a few weeks since Shinichi said she was all right_ , “Yeah,” Eisuke said.  As per Kiyoshi’s demands, he didn’t try to be cheerful about it.

“Is your relationship bad or something?” Kiyoshi probed.

“No, she’s just got…a really, really bad job,” Eisuke said, at length.  “She can’t quit, and I can’t call her, and it kind of sucks.”

“How old is she?” Kiyoshi asked.  By her expression, she already knew the answer.

“A little younger than you,” Eisuke said.  “You look a little like her, too.”

“I thought it was a little odd that you put up with me so easily,” Kiyoshi said, smiling a bit.  “I guess it makes sense, if you’re used to having a big sister around.”

“I put up with you for your cooking and because you speak Japanese,” Eisuke teased.

Kiyoshi shrugged.  “Whatever.  It’s nice having someone to talk to.  And it’s probably good for my Japanese to get some practice.  Speaking of that…are you still working on that oh-so-secret project with your friends on the other side of the globe?”

Eisuke sighed.  He’d had to at least explain a little bit of why he ended up yawning so much in the late afternoon, although he’d left out pretty much every detail except that it was important, big, and everyone else involved was in Japan so he could only meet with them in the early mornings.

“Yeah,” he answered.  “We aren’t much farther along than we were last time I came over, but we’re still working.”

“Don’t know what’s so important that it’s got you waking up at the crack of dawn every day, but it had better be worth it,” Kiyoshi replied.

_Hakuba called it pointless for us to try to find him…but I can tell KID’s worried_ , Eisuke thought.   _And Hakuba’s got an adopted family and friends, and they must miss him, too…_

“It’s important,” Eisuke said firmly.  “So, how’s work?”

“Well, the temp agency finally sent me my first check,” Kiyoshi said.  “The job itself is still just a lot of sorting and filing.  Nothing fun, but I can deal with it.”

“It’s not what you went to school for, though, is it?” Eisuke asked.

“Nah, but I wasn’t expecting to find work in my field around here,” Kiyoshi said.  “It’s not exactly full of jobs.”

“Then why’d you go into it?” Eisuke asked, half-fishing for career advice.

“Oh, you know, sometimes you just sorta…fall into something, and then it fits,” Kiyoshi’s grin was a little crooked.  “It was like that for me.  Never had much of a choice, really.”

_Was that what it was like for Hidemi_ -nee _with the CIA_? Eisuke wondered.   _Did she follow Dad into it and then just end up liking it? Or does she even like it?  Did she ever get a chance to choose, or did Dad just sort of drag her in?  No, no he wouldn’t—_

“Your sister again?” Kiyoshi asked.

“Yeah,” Eisuke said weakly.  “Sorry, I worry about her.”

“With how you say that place she works at is, I don’t blame you,” Kiyoshi said.  “I guess she must worry your family, too, huh?”

Eisuke blinked. “Huh?”   _I mean, my family is—she can’t think I’m living on my own, here, while they were still—unless she means extended family, but I never even_ met _Dad’s side and now I guess I know why, and Mom’s side never approved of the marriage or of Mom working as a servant—_

“Your family, Eisuke,” Kiyoshi repeated, in a tone caught between exasperation and gentleness.  “I mean, I kind of figured that your mom and dad weren’t around, you’ve even mentioned your mom in the past tense, but I thought you at least had some relatives or—” she broke off.  “Eisuke?  Kid, are you okay?”

Eisuke, himself, was sort of stuck on the fact that this was the first time that someone had said it out loud since he’d found out.  His mother and father were dead, both of them.   _That’s, um, how…I don’t really know how to feel about that…_

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Kiyoshi asked, startling Eisuke, because she _wasn’t in her chair anymore_ —when the _heck_ had she come over to the other side of the table and sat down next to him, he hadn’t even noticed…

“It’s—I don’t want to talk about it!” he snapped, eyes flying down to his lap, where his hands sat, fisted and white-knuckled.

“Are you sure?” Kiyoshi asked gently.

“I—” _S***_ , _I am not crying about this in front of someone else_ again _, d*** it_ , he thought, but his eyes were warm and wet and his vision was already starting to blur.   _“S***_.”

“How many times do we need to have the ‘you can have emotions’ discussion?” Kiyoshi asked, a note of humor to her voice.

“Not the time,” Eisuke managed, voice thick.

“Okay, then, what can I do?” Kiyoshi said.  “Do you need some time to yourself?”

_I need some time to calm down_ , Eisuke thought.   _Just a few minutes.  Everything will be fine.  Just a few minutes, and then I can pretend like nothing happened at all._

_…Why does the thought of doing that make it harder to stay calm, instead of easier?_ He took a breath.   _Maybe talking about it_ would _help?  And…as long as I don’t mention the CIA, I shouldn’t get her into trouble, so it’ll be okay? Right?  Right._

_I can do this._

“Um, the thing is, my dad passing away, that was kind of, um, recent,” Eisuke took a breath, because saying the words still _stung_.  “I guess it…hadn’t sunk in, so much?”

“Oh, Eisuke,” Kiyoshi said softly.  “I know it doesn’t help much to hear things like this, but I am so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” Eisuke said quietly.  “Mom’s been gone for a while, but Dad...it really hasn’t been long, and I didn’t find out in the best way.  It hasn’t been as easy as it could have been.”

“And you haven’t had anyone around to talk to,” Kiyoshi said.  “Mourning alone can be really difficult.”

“Yeah, I guess it can be,” Eisuke said.

“Would it help you to talk about him?” Kiyoshi asked.

“Maybe?” Eisuke said.  “I don’t know how much I really know about him.  After he passed away, I found out some stuff and—” _No mentioning the CIA, remember._

“That’s kinda the way it goes, sometimes,” Kiyoshi said, not quite lightly.  “You wouldn’t believe some of the things I found out about my dad after he passed.”

_Oh_.

“Then, you—” Eisuke started, looking up in surprise.

“I was younger than you,” Kiyoshi said quietly.  “It happens.  But I know what it was like for me.  In that it sucked and I wish it hadn’t happened to you.  So, want to talk about what you _do_ know about your dad?”

“Sure,” Eisuke said softly.  “But the food is probably cold, and I’m not even sure I’m hungry anymore…”

“Don’t worry about the food, honestly,” Kiyoshi said, waving away his concerns.  “Just talk.  So, what’s your best memory of him?”

Eisuke took a deep breath, scrubbed at welling eyes, and started describing the restaurant in Osaka his father liked to take him to when he was little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for vague implications of the kind of child endangerment and abuse that a childhood like Ai’s would probably have involved; also, for discussion of crappy coping mechanisms, grief and mourning.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. I love your comments and appreciate any you guys leave.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late update today because I was too tired to get this done before work. I’m still possibly too tired but I want to try to do it anyhow. So, this is a favorite chapter, and has some plotty bits and a few characters I’m fond of. So, I hope you all enjoy it.
> 
> Warnings in the end-note, as always!

 

More than a month and a half on from his disappearance, Hakuba’s desk at school still sat empty.  Kaito felt a little guilty every time he looked at it.

 _I should have him back by now_.

“The police will find him soon, Aoko is sure of it,” Aoko said, as if reading his thoughts.

Kaito looked over at her.  “‘The police’?” he echoed.  “Not your dad?”

“He had to hand the case off to an inspector in Nagano after they traced Hakuba- _san_ there,” Aoko said, gesturing vaguely with the chopsticks she was using to eat her lunch.  “Dad wasn’t too happy about it.  But—at least they have a lead.”

“I would offer my assistance, but not even my considerable powers can give me a clue as to his location,” Akako said, taking a seat uninvited on the corner of Kaito’s desk.

“You’ve been looking for him with your magic?” Aoko asked.

“Yes,” Akako said, with a small flip of her hair, “but I haven’t found a trace of him.  I did locate Kaito on two different continents, however.  I’m beginning to wonder if my spell book is misprinted.”

 _She did find him, she just doesn’t know…_ “Which two continents?” Kaito asked, feigning casual interest.

“Asia, of course, where you actually _are_ , and North America, but that has to have been a flaw in the spell,” Akako answered.  “Not even my magic can allow one person to be in two places at—” She broke off, expression suddenly blank. “At the very same time,” she finished slowly.

In one smooth motion, she dismounted Kaito’s desk and turned to face him, her eyes intense in a way that Kaito hadn’t seen since Valentine’s Day and didn’t really want to see again.

“With me,” she said, her tone brooking no argument.  “Now.”

Baffled, but wary of ending up cursed, Kaito stood and followed her out of the room and into the hallway, until they reached the storage closet Kaito usually stored materials for the flashier pranks in.  Akako flicked a wrist, and the tumblers inside the lock rotated and then clicked open.  She twisted the doorknob, opened the closet, and gestured to it.

“We need to speak privately,” she said.

“In a storage closet?” Kaito asked, trying to keep his voice level as he slowly backed away.  “Um, no, I don’t think so.”   _No way am I going in a small enclosed space with a girl who wants to take away my free will and force me to fall in love with her.  Not happening.  Nope._

Akako flinched.  “I’m not planning anything,” she said, frowning.  “I still want your heart, but I intend to have it with your full knowledge and consent.”  She grinned at Kaito like she was a cat and he was a cornered canary.  “I was a fool to think I needed to resort to coercion with all my natural,” she paused meaningfully, sweeping a hand across her body to flip her hair over her shoulder, “charms.  You didn’t fall for me immediately, but you will.”

 _Poker Face, Poker Face, Poker Face_ , Kaito reminded himself as he replied, “But no funny business while we’re in the closet.”

“Very well,” Akako sighed.  “No ‘funny business.’”

Kaito eyed her carefully, then stepped into the closet.  Akako followed him in, flicking on the overhead light as she closed the door behind her.

The closet was _just_ big enough for the two of them to fit without touching, and Kaito suspected that was only because the janitor had most of the cleaning supplies out at the moment.  Kaito liked nothing about this situation, but at least he had the comfort of knowing that Harada _-san_ came back to the closet to put away the cleaning supplies before his break in roughly twenty minutes, so someone would eventually find them.

“So, time travel,” Akako said casually.

Poker Face failed utterly, and Kaito all but had to pick his jaw up off of the floor.

“Ah, I thought so!” Akako crowed softly.  “So, you can be in two places at once, if you aren’t both the same ‘you.’”

“Good job figuring out your puzzle, Koizumi- _san_ ,” Kaito said. “Can I go now?”

“Not so fast,” Akako said.  “Don’t you want to know where Hakuba _-san_ is?”

“You said you didn’t know,” Kaito said carefully.

“I didn’t, because I didn’t know who he was,” Akako replied.   “He’s the ‘you’ from the other timeline, isn’t he?”

This time, Kaito managed not to react.

“Now I know I’m right,” Akako said.  “If I were off the mark, you’d be sputtering with laughter at the very idea.”

Kaito gulped.

“It wasn’t hard to figure out,” Akako said conversationally.  “I thought the two of you were destined rivals, so earlier in the semester, I tried to do a test, and it failed, because Hakuba _-san_ didn’t even show up in the results.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Kaito asked, curious despite himself.

“All of the results were about you,” Akako explained.

“Oh,” Kaito said, drawing out the syllable.  He considered, for a moment, then decided he had little to lose.  “Hakuba talked to Mom a little, before he ran. He said you—well, the you from his future—did this.  Do you know how?”

Akako touched a finger to her chin.  “There is a spell…if Hakuba hadn’t interfered with my attack on KID as he did, I might well have cast it on you.”  She crossed her arms, looking thoughtful.  “Yes, that one is the most likely.  Which means there are two things you ought to know.”

She looked him in the eye, then held up a finger.  “First, the spell is designed to allow one to travel back in time as many times as is necessary to accomplish a certain goal.  It’s a modification of a certain curse, which simply trapped the target in a time loop. If you’re certain I was the caster, then the goal in question was likely set to ‘whatever KID is trying to accomplish.’”

Kaito blinked.

“Oh, don’t look surprised, you showed quite a bit of willpower in your struggle against me,” Akako said with a sharp grin.  “Capricious thieves who steal for _fun_ don’t have that sort of willpower.  I won’t ask what it is, but don’t ask me to believe that you don’t have a goal.”

Kaito sighed.  “So, what, he needs to accomplish KID’s goal?”

“No, he merely needs to see it accomplished,” Akako said.  “But if he doesn’t—he’ll be sent back in time again.”

“You’re kidding,” Kaito said.

“It’s the only way the spell works,” Akako said.  “The person’s will to accomplish their goals and avoid further loops becomes their anchor in the new timeline.  The metaphysics are all very complex; I won’t try to explain it to you.”

“What’s the second thing?” Kaito asked, annoyed.

“In order for the spell to take effect, the person it was cast on has to have failed wholly in achieving their goals once before,” Akako said.  She paused, suddenly hesitant.  “The only failure case the spell recognizes is death.”

“So you’re saying he died before he came here?” Kaito asked carefully.   _Mom said he told her that we’d already passed the point he travelled back from…but he knew about Corbeau.  So he was probably eighteen…but not by that much.  D***._

So Kudou Shinichi wasn’t the only one who’d died young in that timeline.  Kaito had nearly turned green in front of the critics when he’d worked that little tidbit out, and this was possibly _worse,_ because that timeline’s poor Kudou wasn’t here now, and Hakuba _was_.

“Correct,” Akako said.  “You may want to take that into account in your search for him.  We have no way of knowing what his timeline was like—” She broke off, looking troubled.  “No, you know something, don’t you?”

Kaito grimaced.  “He was younger than I am now,” Kaito said. “When he…”

Akako blinked, then frowned.  “I suppose it’s to be expected.  The spell wouldn’t have changed his physical age, and we know for certain that he was sent back to a few years before we met him.  If he was more than a teenager when he arrived in this time, he would’ve had difficulty passing as a high school student when he came to Japan.”

“So he’s definitely older than us,” Kaito said.  “Mom thought so, but—”

“He’ll age normally through the time loops,” Akako said.  “The spell is…inelegant, that way.”

Kaito cocked his head to the side.

“If he’s still making attempts when he’s fifty years old…” Akako trailed off.  “As I said, it was originally a curse.”

“Do you think he knows?” Kaito asked.

“You would’ve figured it out, soon enough,” Akako said.  “I’m sure he already has.”

An awkward silence fell.

“You’re safe,” Akako said softly.  “I decided not to use the spell on you after what Hakuba _-san_ did at the Valentine’s Day Heist.”

Kaito looked at her carefully.  “He really made an impact, didn’t he?”

“More so, now that I know who he actually is,” Akako said.  “If he’s here and I’m unable to control him, that means I failed in his timeline as well—the spell on that chocolate would’ve recognized me as his mistress in the moment he travelled here.  The fact that he still felt it necessary to interfere is—well, I believe I need to think about it.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Kaito said, uncomfortable again, reaching for the doorknob.

Surprisingly, Akako made no motion to stop him.

When he got back to the classroom, Aoko and Keiko took one look at him and burst into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Kaito asked, confused. _I don’t remember doing any pranks that could’ve backfired on me…_

“Sorry, sorry,” Keiko gasped between helpless chuckles.  “Aoko was just telling me about this nightmare her dad had, and—”

Okay, now Kaito was really confused.

“Dad dreamed there were _two_ of you, making chaos everywhere,” Aoko said.  “He yelled so loud when he woke up that he woke _Aoko_ up. And then Aoko laughed at him for being scared of such a silly thing.”

“I dunno,” Kaito said slowly.  “Having two of me around might actually suck.”

The girls just giggled, as Kaito shook his head and wondered when his life had gotten so messy.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Hattori picked his way through the bustling Osaka Metropolitan Police Station, dodging on-duty officers left and right and wincing at the sheer volume of dozens of conversations overlapping one another.  If he had his way, he’d be spending the afternoon here, either working whatever investigation caught his interest or digging through the archives for a cold case.  But he had cram school to go to, and his parents were threatening to stop paying for kendo if he kept cutting class for non-urgent cases.  So, he just had time to drop off the case file he’d borrowed from Otaki- _han_ yesterday and then leave.

Except, then, when Heiji was too busy thinking about how much he didn’t want to go to cram school, a rookie practically slammed him and some other guy into a wall.

Said other guy cursed in a low, rough voice, then demanded, with a noticeable Nagano accent, “Watch where you’re goin’!”

Heiji _knew_ that voice.  He looked up, and sure enough, there was Yamato Kansuke of the Nagano police, brushing off his unbuttoned suit jacket with one hand and gripping his cane, white-knuckled, with the other.

Was he gripping it harder because he’d actually been hurt by that collision, or because he was pissed off?  No use checking his facial expression—Yamato was almost always frowning, just to different extents, the scar over his eye meant that only one of his eyebrows had a full range of movement, and Heiji had never been good at the whole subtle-expressions thing.  Posture, though—posture was useful, and Yamato would probably be bending over a little more if it was pain, so—pissed off it was.

 _And I’ve been staring at the pissed off guy for at least five seconds, whoops_ , Heiji thought.

“At least apologize!” Yamato practically thundered.

Heiji threw his hands up.  “Sorry, sorry, I was just surprised ta see ya, is all,” he said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“I can think of a couple of ways to tell a person you’re surprised to see ‘em that aren’t runnin’ into ‘em,” Yamato muttered.

Heiji ignored the probably-deliberate misunderstanding and asked, “What’re ya doin in Osaka?”

Yamato’s frown shrank a little.  “Got a lead on that high school detective from Tokyo, the Superintendent-General’s kid.”

“Here?” Heiji asked, confused.  “But…we know he’s not in the countr—”

He broke off as Yamato grabbed him by the collar of his school uniform and slammed him into the wall, just hard enough that he wouldn’t _quite_ bruise. He had Heiji a few inches off the ground, but he was also leaning into his grip on Heiji’s neck in a way that was both uncomfortable for Heiji and indicative of the fact that maintaining this position was no cakewalk for Yamato either.

“ _How do you know that?_ ” Yamato demanded, loud enough to catch the attention of more than a few passing groups of officers.   _“And who’s ‘we’?”_

They were attracting stares and the seams of his uniform were starting to dig into Heiji’s skin.  “Ya really think the police are the only ones investigatin’?” he asked, and the second Yamato’s eyes widened, he ripped the older man’s fingers off of his collar, sending him staggering backward.

He stumbled when his feet hit solid ground again, but muscle memory brought him back to a kendo stance before he really had time to think about it.   Meanwhile, Yamato steadied himself as well, leaning a bit heavily on his cane as he glared pure murder at Heiji.

Heiji was used enough to getting that look from actual murderers to be unfazed.

“What the h*** are you talkin’ about, kid?” Yamato demanded.

“This ain’t a conversation for the middle of headquarters, you get me?” Heiji said.

“No, I don’t ‘get you,’” Yamato echoed mockingly.

“I’m workin’ with some people on it but not all of ‘em are people who want their name all over the case,” Heiji said.  “So can we take this outside?”

Yamato scowled. “If the people you’re workin’ with are trustworthy, then we can discuss it right here.”

“Fine,” Heiji said.  “First, though, ya gotta tell me _all_ about the last classified case ya closed.”

Yamato scowled.

“There are things that’re secret for a reason,” Heiji said.  “Outside or nothing, which’ll it be?”

Yamato sighed.  “Outside,” he said.

Heiji led the way to one of the trees planted between the sidewalk and the road outside of the station, then stood opposite it, giving Yamato the option of leaning against the tree.  Naturally, he didn’t take it, but stood straight and glared at Heiji.

“I’m waitin’ on that explanation,” he said.

 _I’m not Kudou, and I’m not KID_ , Heiji thought, steeling himself.   _I can’t pull lies from thin air or say them as easy as the truth.  But maybe, if I don’t tell all of the truth, Yamato won’t go poking his nose anywhere that’ll get him killed and Kudou won’t murder me next time we see each other._

“So, it’s like this,” Heiji said.  “You remember hearing about Kudou, from Conan’s _neechan_?  I’m workin’ with him, but ya can’t mention that ta _anybody_. It’s a long story, but he’s attracted some attention he doesn’t want and he’s been lyin’ low ‘til we can catch the people who wanna see him lying about six feet lower, if ya catch my drift.”

Yamato did, if his flinch was anything to go by.  “He’s your age, how the h*** did he get mixed up in somethin’ like that?”

“Kudou’s luck runs… _interesting_ ,” Heiji said, in complete honesty.  “Good enough to keep him alive, but bad enough for a _lot_ of close calls.  H*** if I know how it works.”

“So, ‘we’ is you and Kudou?” Yamato pressed.

“Well, we got other guys,” Heiji said.  “There’s a guy named Hondou Eisuke, really smart, never met Hakuba, only agreed to this as a favor to Conan _-kun_.  Since he’s, uh, never met Kudou.”   

“Conan _-kun_ ’s involved too?” Yamato asked.

Heiji, not sure how to dodge the question, settled on nodding.

“So Hondou’s the adult?”

Heiji blinked.  “Nah, he’s our age,” he said.   _Oh, wait, shoulda lied there.  Too late._

“Tell me there’s an adult involved in this somewhere,” Yamato said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Of course,” Heiji said obediently.   _All three of us are legal adults.  Heck, I’m the only one living with my parents.  And the only reason Kudou’s not living completely alone is because he’s physically tiny._

“I was expectin’ you to tell me the _name_ of the adult so I could get in contact with ‘em,” Yamato half-growled.

“Yeah, that ain’t happening,” Heiji said.  “We have this under control, but it’s gotta be us, it’s—look, we got a witness who will _not_ go to the police. No use trying to make him, he’s stubborn as hell and his reasons make sense.  So we know more’n you do.”

“You know I can charge you with obstruction of justice and take the evidence and whatever witness statements you’ve recorded so far,” Yamato said in a dangerous tone.

“Sure, an’ then nobody ever sees Hakuba again,” Heiji replied.  “I told ya, he ain’t in Japan anymore.  You don’t got jurisdiction, and in the time it takes you to find him and get permission to go after him, he’ll already be gone.  We’re not police-affiliated, so if we go overseas looking for him we ain’t stepping on anybody’s toes.”

“And what do you plan on doing once you find him?” Yamato asked.  “You don’t have authority, either.”

“We got plans for that,” Heiji said.  “We know why he left, we know why he should stay, if we get ‘im to siddown and listen, his own logic’ll keep ‘im from boltin’ again.”

“You’re pretty certain of that,” Yamato said appraisingly.

“Whatever else I’ve learned about ‘im, he’s still a detective,” Heiji said.  “An’ that still means somethin’, ya know?”

Yamato raised an eyebrow.  “Speaking of that, you’ve got you and the Great Detective of the East working together with another genius high-schooler on this one.  From what I know, that doesn’t happen ev’ry day.  Do all you high-school detectives have some sort of agreement to come to each other’s aid or somethin’?”

Heiji barked out a laugh.  “Yeah, right.  First case I worked with Hakuba, the victim was a high school detective—but so was the murderer.”

Nice.  He’d gotten Yamato’s eyes to widen again.

“It ain’t just that he’s a high-school detective,” Heiji said. “He’s a guy I’ve worked with.  There’s a…responsibility ta that.” He paused, then, figuring it couldn’t make Yamato any _more_ suspicious, added, “Ta be fair, Kudou called me in half for my skills and half because I’d been saying since I met the guy that there was somethin’ off about ‘im.”

“Really?” Yamato asked, squinting at Heiji.  “How’s it feel to be right?”

Heiji grimaced.  “Wouldn’t really know.  I was right that somethin’ was off, but I was _miles_ off about what, an’ I’m happier that way, trust me.”

Yamato cocked his head to the side, just a touch.  “Don’t think I’ve ever heard a teenager say they were happy to be wrong.”

Heiji shoved his hands into the pockets of his school uniform’s pants, uncomfortable at the scrutiny.  “Thought he was gonna snap and kill someone someday, so I’d like ta keep bein’ wrong, thanks.”

Yamato rocked back onto his heels, shifting most of his weight onto his cane.  “Superintendent-Gen’ral Hakuba has better judgement than takin’ in a kid like that.”

“Didn’t know you knew him,” Heiji said.  “You guys friends?”

“Ehh, he kept bugging me at the national police convention the year after I came off leave—you know, from all this,” Yamato gestured to his scar and his cane.  “Guess he thought I was spending too much time by myself.  He was a little overbearing, but he kinda grew on me after a while.  Once Saguru _-kun_ gets his a** back home I’m gonna shout at him for a while for worrying his old man.”

“Well, then, we’ll try an’ get him back as soon as possible,” Heiji said.  “Wouldn’t wanna make ya wait.”

Yamato snorted. “Hang on now, don’t get ahead of yourself, kid.  You said you knew he wasn’t in the country, but do you know where he _is_?”

Heiji slumped a little.  “We did, but he slipped us,” he said.  “We nearly had him in Omsk, but he caught on to Kudou’s strategy. We think he’s in North America now, but we’re still narrowin’ down the region.”

“His dad’s got his passport,” Yamato said flatly.

“Yeah,” Heiji said.  “He ain’t usin’ his real one.”

“You’re accusin’ him of carrying forged documents,” Yamato said.  “And either theft or stowing away, dependin’ on whether he bought the tickets.”

“We don’t know about the theft,” Heiji said.  “Eisuke’s got a theory that he had money— _clean_ money—hidden somewhere in case something like this happened.  I think he stole it, yeah, either recently or maybe before he got adopted, an’ he couldn’t quite bring himself ta get rid o’ his safety net.  Kudou isn’t sure which o’ us is right.”

“Still, you’re accusin’ someone you said you knew for sure was still a detective of some pretty serious s***,” Yamato said.

Heiji was at a loss for words for a few seconds.  Finally, he said.  “It’s like…bein’ a detective is a way of thinkin’, an’ a code of ethics.  An’ even if he’s not following the law sometimes, Hakuba _-han_ ’s still thinkin’ that way and following the most important parts o’ that code o’ ethics.  So even if I don’t like ‘im, he’s still a detective.”

“What’s he still followin’?” Yamato asked, confused.

“Can’t tell ya that part,” Heiji said automatically.   _Yeah, if I tell Yamato about the Black Org he’ll die chasing them and probably expose Kudou in the process, and then Kudou will kill me, so, nope._

“The _h***_ you can’t,” Yamato spat.

“Kudou will _actually murder me_ , okay?” Heiji said.  “Jus’—know we’re doing ev’rythin’ we can to get Hakuba _-han_ home.  We understand what’s at stake, we are doin’ everythin’ we can, and our chances are a _lot_ better’n yours, so leave it ta us.”

Yamato scowled.  “Like h***.  What’ll I tell the Superintendent-General?”

“He knows one of the people I’m working with is on this case,” Heiji said.  “Doesn’t know I’m workin’ with ‘im, but—he knows.”

“An’ he didn’t mention this to me because?” Yamato asked.

“Like I said, not everyone involved wants their involvement public,” Heiji said.  “Now, can I trust ya or not?”

Yamato rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna go shoutin’ about Kudou’s involvement.”

“You’d _better not_ ,” Heiji half-spat.

“Look, kid, I wasn’t tryin’ to make fun of you, I just…this isn’t my first undercover operation,” Yamato said, a little more softly.  “Guess I kinda forgot it was yours.  Is Kudou…dealin’ with this whole thing okay?”

“The h*** do you think?” Heiji asked, not quite able to keep a rein on his tongue.  “He’s been lyin’ to his girlfriend about the whole thing for better’n a year, it’ll take a minor miracle for ‘im to graduate on time, an’ he’s gotten paranoid enough ta give some o’ Osaka PD’s retirees runs for their money.”

“Keep an eye on him, then,” Yamato said, frowning a little more than usual.  “And be careful, all of you.  Even if you’re just tracking Hakuba _-kun_ , if Kudou _-kun_ ’s got a target on him, your operation could get real complicated real fast if you draw attention.  Last thing we need is you in trouble, too.”

“Right,” Heiji said.  “Good talk, Inspector Yamato.”

“Don’t think I forgot about you pulling my case out from under me!  If you lot need any help from the Japanese police, I expect to be the one you contact—but I’d _better_ get some information about _my own d***_ case in return.”

“I thought it was technically the Tokyo cops’ case?” Heiji ventured.

“That’s only because they’re the Superintendent-Gen’ral’s people,” Yamato said dismissively.  “It’s not like he was still gonna be in Tokyo.”

Heiji was still pretty suspicious of Yamato’s claim to the case, but he decided to drop the matter.

“If we need help, we’ll let ya know,” he said, with a wave.  “I gotta go, you made me late for—oh, hey!” He dug through his bag, and pulled out the case filed he’d meant to give to Otaki _-han_.  “Find a guy named Otaki _-han_ and give ‘im this for me, would ya?”

He had the folder in Yamato’s hand before the man could sputter out a protest.

“Thanks!” he called as he ran off.   _I really am gonna be late, though.  Ugh, Dad ain’t gonna be happy…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for major character death, albeit in another timeline (thus why the archive warning isn’t on the fic), and Yamato Kansuke’s rough treatment of anyone he thinks might have information.
> 
> I got to write Kan-chan and Heiji in the same scene; I am so pleased. 
> 
> Finally, for any of you who were wondering, yes, Kaito is correct, and Shinichi did die in the other timeline. What exactly happened will be expanded upon later on.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it’s the plot. Also me, again, back from a short vacation and hopefully a bit more on top of things. To explain the last few weeks…because I’ve been having some non-serious but ongoing health issues, updates have been falling by the wayside. I’m hoping it won’t happen again, but if it does I’m asking everyone to be a little patient with me, please.
> 
> I am adding my first frivolous tag this week and I would like you to know that yes, I am very pleased with myself. Related to that, miladyRanger is an awesome beta and was especially useful in advising me on some technical matters for this chapter.
> 
> Despite the plot, there are no real warnings except some discussion of mourning and bad coping mechanisms, which you should be expecting from the characters involved.

 

A high-pitched beeping, like a security alarm, tore Kaito out of sleep and into hyper-awareness, until a few seconds of scanning his surroundings catalogued the moonlit outlines of his bedroom furniture and the lit screen of a ringing phone.

Which needed to be answered.  Right.

“Hello,” he said, not risking an introduction—no, this was the phone that he gave Kudou a number for, so definitely a good call.

“Oh, good, KID, I was afraid you wouldn’t pick up, I know it must be late—” Eisuke’s voice babbled.

“Spy _-san_?” Kaito asked, surprised.

“We’ve reversed positions,” Eisuke said, all forced cheer.  And then, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call.  My neighbor’s missing.”

“Missing?” Kaito asked, sitting bolt upright.  “Have you called the police?”

“I don’t know if I should?” Eisuke said.  “It doesn’t seem connected, but, with everything…what if she got in trouble because of me somehow?” His voice got progressively quieter as he spoke.  “If that’s the case, it would be dangerous to involve them without knowing whether they were trustworthy.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Kaito said, racking his brain for detective things.  There weren’t many.  “Why didn’t you call _Tantei-kun_ or _Tantei-han_?”

“Kudou- _san_ ’s… _don’t_ tell him I said this, but he’s physically a kid, okay?” Eisuke said.  “I can’t wake him up in the middle of the night; he needs more sleep than an adult.  Plus if Ran _-chan_ caught him talking to me at this time, we’d both have a lot of explaining to do.  And I don’t have Hattori _-san_ ’s number.”

“Just…keep in mind that I’m no critic,” Kaito said.  “But, why do you think she’s missing?”

“Her door’s unlocked, she isn’t here, and the place looks like a storm hit it,” Eisuke said.  “But…it’s weird.  I went and got my dishwashing gloves so I could touch things, and checked around the apartment…and all the perishable food is gone.  _Just_ the perishable food—everything that wouldn’t go rotten is still there.  I wouldn’t know for certain if clothes are gone or not, but the way the drawers and closet are open, it looks like someone either robbed the place or was packing.”

“This is the neighbor you visit all the time, right?” Kaito asked.

“Yeah,” Eisuke said.

“Well, why don’t you think it was a robbery?” Kaito asked.

“Like I said, the door was unlocked,” Eisuke said.  “I’ve heard that robbers in America are more likely to just damage the lock instead of pick it, and even if they had tried—she has a deadbolt, and she usually locks it.  A robber would’ve _had_ to damage the lock.”

“Have you checked the windows?” Kaito asked. “Someone could’ve broken in, and left the door unlocked behind them.”

“Oh!” Eisuke exclaimed.  “Hang on, let me do that.”  Kaito waited, listening to the quiet “thumping” of Eisuke’s footsteps as he went through the apartment.

“They’re all—“ Eisuke stopped short.  “They’re all locked and there are _doves_.”

“Doves,” Kaito repeated.

“In a cage,” Eisuke said.  “It’s in the back corner of the living room, the cage was covered, I jostled it and there was a fluttering noise and I realized it _was_ a cage and—there’s a note.”  Eisuke was silent for a few moments.  “It’s instructions.  Instructions and a list of training commands and—it ends with ‘Take care of them, Eisuke _-kun_.’”

“So the doves are for you?” Kaito asked.

“Yeah,” Eisuke said, voice breathy.  “What if I’m wrong and she isn’t missing and I ruined her surprise?”

“She’ll understand,” Kaito said soothingly, though he had no idea whether she would or not.  “Do the doves have food?”

“Yeah, in the cage, in those bowls that attach to the side, and there’s a box of it sitting right next to it,” Eisuke said.  “With another note about portion sizes taped to it.  I had no idea she knew so much about birds.”

“Are you allowed to have pets in your building?” Kaito asked.

“I don’t know?” Eisuke said.  “We’d better be.  It looks like she already trained them.  A lot.  _In Japanese_.  She doesn’t even like Japanese that much, that was for me, oh gosh I hope she’s okay…”

There were soft cooing noises on the other side of the line.

“You’re worrying the doves,” Kaito scolded.  “Stop.  Think.  You tried calling her, right?”

“Y-yeah,” Eisuke said.

“Try again,” Kaito said. “Just in case.”   

If Kaito strained, he could hear the beep of a cell-phone keypad, and the tinny noise of a recorded ringtone.  After a few seconds, Eiuske spoke.

“It’s still ringing out.”

“Not going straight to voicemail?” Kaito asked.

“No,” Eisuke said.  “That’s another one of the worrying things.  That means that it’s on, but either she isn’t hearing it ring or it isn’t with her.”

“There’s still perfectly reasonable explanations for that, though,” Kaito said.  “Maybe she has it set to ‘vibrate,’ maybe it fell out of her purse—”

“This isn’t her handwriting,” Eisuke said suddenly.

“What?” Kaito asked, surprised enough to let it color his tone.

“No, it’s her handwriting at the beginning, but…it _changes_.  After the first two sentences…it’s…cleaner, and straighter, and the kanji are way too messy; hers always look kinda like she copied them from textbooks…”

“Take a picture for me,” Kaito said.

“Huh?”

“I’m a thief; I know how to forge handwriting.  And to forge it, I need to be able to analyze it.”

He could hear a hint of relief in Eisuke’s tone.  “So you might be able to figure something out about whoever else wrote this note.”  Kaito heard a camera-shutter sound effect.  “I took the picture, and I’m sending it now.”

Kaito pulled up the incoming message, and carefully looked at the photo.  It was pretty clear, for a cell phone photo taken by a panicking teen, and he could make the characters out really well.

He stared at it for a few seconds, blinked, and then stared at it again.

There was no mistaking it.

The first two sentences were written in a looping, deliberate hand. The writer was likely female, and wrote _kanji_ very carefully.  But the rest of the note…

Kaito stared at his own handwriting, at what somehow must have been _Saguru’s_ handwriting, spelling out the exact same list of commands he’d used to train his own doves, and wondered how on Earth he was even going to begin explaining this to Eisuke.

“So, what do you think?” Eisuke asked, worried.  “The handwriting definitely changed, right?”

Shakily, Kaito brought the phone back to his ear.  “Y-yeah.  Spy- _san_ …”

“KID _-san_?” Eisuke prompted.

Kaito took a deep breath and got ready to make Eisuke’s evening exactly as confusing as his own was turning out to be.

“Spy _-san_ , I don’t need to analyze the handwriting, I _recognize_ it,” he said, tone strained.  “This was written by Hakuba- _san_.”

“N-no way,” Eisuke said quietly.  “That’s—that’s too much of a coincidence.”

“I know his handwriting.” _I know my own handwriting_.  “This is it.”

“So, what, do you think he came here and—” Eisuke broke off.  “No, of course you don’t.  He didn’t come here.  He _was_ here.  There never really was such a person as Kiyoshi Rogers, was there?”

“Not until Hakuba arrived,” Kaito said carefully.

“…do you think he was targeting me?” Eisuke asked softly.  “Was this some sort of trick he was playing on me or something?”

“He would’ve had to do a lot of work to find out that you were working out with us,” Kaito said. “I don’t think it’s impossible…but I don’t think it’s likely.  He didn’t know anything about your relationship to Kudou and you never mentioned any of us to him by name, either, right?”

“I was careful not to,” Eisuke said.  “I didn’t want her…him…oh gosh.  I didn’t want Kiyoshi in danger!”

Kaito tactfully refrained from pointing out how far that ship had already sailed.

“But…if it was him…and he left like this, either it’s because he finished whatever he was doing with _Them_ here _…_ or because he found out something about who I was,” Eisuke said.

“You didn’t tell him,” Kaito said.

“Of course not!” Eisuke said.  “And I’m not sure how he would’ve found out.  _They_ don’t know, and in order to hack the CIA for information, he’d have to know that it was the CIA he needed to hack.”  He was quiet for a few moments.  “But, she was worried about how much sleep I was missing over working with you guys—”

“Wait, sleep?” Kaito asked, concerned.

“The early mornings mess with my sleep schedule, and my homework schedule, that’s all,” Eisuke said.  “I can handle it.  Honestly, I don’t need _two_ of you.”

Neither of them could quite say anything for a few seconds after that, but for completely different reasons.

“…If it really is Hakuba, he might have decided to check my computer,” Eisuke said.

“You need to go check that, then,” Kaito said quietly.

Silence fell again for a few moments.  Kaito heard Eisuke’s footsteps, then a key turning in a lock, and then, a quiet, heartfelt curse.

“My computer isn’t where it was,” he said.

“So he did check it,” Kaito said.

“We don’t know for certain it was him,” Eisuke said weakly.

“Spy _-san_ …” Kaito ventured, not even sure what to say.

A few minutes passed in silence.

“Okay, yes, now we do,” Eisuke said softly.  “My computer’s fine.  Everything’s in place.  None of my passwords have been changed, nothing’s been purchased on any of my accounts…but everything related to the case is gone.  Completely.  Maybe I could take the computer to an expert and retrieve it from the harddrive, but not without whoever it was _seeing_ everything they’re retrieving.”

“And we can’t risk that,” Kaito said.

“No,” Eisuke agreed.

“Are you…going to be okay?” Kaito asked.

“I don’t know?” Eisuke said.  “My neighbor’s been lying to me for weeks, and is also the person we’ve been trying to chase, and I know I should be trying to figure out how to catch him, but I’m a little too busy being upset.  I mean, the only real friend I’ve made since I got here and she turns out to be someone else in disguise?”

“The only friend?” Kaito asked.  “You never mentioned…even when you were talking to me that one night…”

“Well, of course not!”  Eisuke said hotly.  “I wasn’t going to complain about _my_ problems while you were really upset about something.”

“I wasn’t that upset,” Kaito lied.

Eisuke was quiet for a few seconds.  “Please, be a little honest with me,” he said. “How well do you and Hakuba know each other, like, outside heists?”

“Not very well at all, really,” Kaito lied again.

“That’s a lie, isn’t it?” Eisuke asked, sounding genuinely distressed.

“Spy _-san_?” Kaito asked, somewhat confused.

“Ugh, never mind, just— _ugh_ ,” Eisuke said, sounding frustrated.  “Everything is terrible and you still need to go to school in the morning.”

Kaito was almost tired enough to actually say, _No, I’m skipping._

“I don’t know where you got the idea that I attend school, but I believe that I will be taking a day off from my obligations,” Kaito said.  “This is as close as we’ve gotten to Hakuba in weeks.  The others will have to be told.”

“I’m going to have to explain this to Kudou _-san_ ,” Eisuke said miserably.

“ _Tantei-kun_ ’s made his mistakes as far as recognizing Hakuba in disguise,” Kaito said.  “He isn’t really in a position to judge you.”

“I guess not,” Eisuke said, not sounding particularly heartened.

Searching for a way to cheer Eisuke up, Kaito said, “Spy _-san_ , do you have any idea how much effort is involved in training doves?”

“Well, I guess you would,” Eisuke said quietly.  “I saw some recordings of your tricks.”

“That isn’t the point,” Kaito said, impatient.  “It’s a lot of work, even for someone who’s skilled enough with birds to train a hawk.  I doubt even someone as single-minded as Hakuba would do it in service of a simple deception.”

“Then why?” Eisuke asked.

“Doves are good companions,” Kaito said, letting fondness into his tone.  “They need a lot of attention, and they’re very affectionate.  For someone who lives alone, they’re ideal pets.”

On the other end of the phone, Eisuke was quiet.

“I don’t think he realized you were a detective, but I’m sure he was preparing to leave the area once he took care of whatever of _Them_ he found in your area,” Kaito said.  “I think he was trying to make sure he didn’t leave you all alone when that happened.” _Because that’s what I would’ve done, and it seems we still have this much in common, at least._

“So it really wasn’t _all_ an act,” Eisuke said quietly.

“No, and the doves are proof,” Kaito said.  “You detectives like that sort of thing, right?”

“What sort of thing?” Eisuke asked, a hint of humor to his tone.

“Proof,” Kaito said carelessly. “Evidence.  Forensic-y things.”

Eisuke snickered.

_I win_ , Kaito thought.

“Wait,” Eisuke said suddenly.  “If Hakuba’s _here_ —then there’s a group of _Them_ nearby too.”

Kaito cursed.  “Do you think you’re in any danger?”

“They don’t know about me, and I haven’t done anything to attract their attention,” Eisuke said dismissively.  “But—I didn’t even _know_.”

“Since I’ve never heard a story about someone finding out that that _They_ are somewhere that didn’t involve the teller nearly dying, that’s okay, I think,” Kaito said absently.  “Look, just…don’t go after them until after all four of us talk, _please_?”

“I’m not Kudou _-san_ ,” Eisuke said, insulted.

“And I’m grateful for that every day,” Kaito replied.  “One is bad enough.  But, seriously.  Work out a meeting time with _Tantei-han_ and _Tantei_ - _kun_ , and text me about it.  In the meantime, I’m going back to sleep, because I’m too tired to be of much more help to you.”

“All right,” Eisuke said quietly.  “Thank you for your help, KID _-san_.”

Kaito thought about the page of meticulously written training commands Eisuke had photographed for him.

_I’m not the KID_ -san _you should be thanking_ , he thought.

“You’re welcome,” he said aloud.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Eisuke curled up in a corner of his bedroom, phone balanced on the flat of his bent knee, as he waited for the others to call.  One of the doves pecked at the phone’s home screen curiously.

“No,” Eisuke said softly, and the dove immediately stopped.

He still needed to name her, and the other dove, which Kiyoshi—no, _Hakuba’s_ —note said was male, but he had no idea where to start.  He barely had any idea what he was going to tell Kudou and Hattori when they called in a few minutes.

Or how he was going to talk to KID.  _Ugh_.  Hakuba, as Kiyoshi, had mentioned knowing someone who always hid their feelings, and said it “really messed them up.”  Eisuke _knew_ that Hakuba and KID knew each other—KID’s denial had been unconvincing, and besides, the man was too invested in Hakuba’s wellbeing, specifically, for this to be just a matter of an owed life or “No One Gets Hurt.”  Also, KID lied a lot, and had pretty much admitted that he didn’t have anyone he could talk to about his problems honestly.

So, KID apparently had _vast_ issues, Kiyoshi was in fact Hakuba, and Eisuke had pet doves now.  Great, just great.

Kiyoshi—Hakuba—whoever the heck they were—wanted him to be honest about his feelings?  He felt really, really overwhelmed.

But also kind of...cared about?  Because he’d done a little research.  The doves  were white and mottled peach, with a thin line of grey running across the napes of their necks to mark them as ring-necked doves—a type of dove particularly recommended for new dove owners. The cage was the exact size all the sites were saying it needed to be, and the food was the right kind too.  KID hadn’t been joking about how complicated training doves was, either.  Hakuba had done a lot of work, to get him this present.  To make up for the fact that he knew he would have to leave and he was worried about Eisuke being lonely when he did. He’d even bothered getting birds, and using his own expertise from training that hawk the others had mentioned, instead of just buying a kitten or something.

It was actually an incredibly kind gesture.

But it was also a little worrisome.

Eisuke would readily admit that they didn’t know that much about Hakuba’s true personality.  But the one he’d shown before leaving Tokyo wasn’t one that would do something like this as a matter of course, at least not according to the others.  There was a chance that this was actually what he was like— that Hakuba’s standoffishness had all been an act— but if it hadn’t been, then this was a bit of a grand gesture for him, especially given that he was currently going after a large criminal organization with everything he was worth.

_When did he find time to hand-train a pair of doves?_ Eisuke wondered _.  And why would it be important enough to him to do instead of investigating?_

Maybe he was making something out of nothing, but he couldn’t help being faintly alarmed by any change in Hakuba’s behavior, just in case it was a prelude to a bigger shift.

The dove on his shoulder made a soft, warbling sort of coo and pecked at the phone’s screen again, then fluttered backward slightly, hitting Eisuke in the face with its wing, as the phone started ringing.

Eisuke accepted the call, and was faced with both Edogawa Conan and Kudou Shinichi.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you use that disguise before, KID- _san_ ,” he managed.

“Hello to you too,” Shinichi— the real one— huffed.  “The impersonator refuses to tell me what happened, just that it’s important.”

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” KID said smoothly.  “This is just an easy disguise.”

“Also, is that a dove?” Shinichi asked. 

“Uh, yeah,” Eisuke said.  “It’s kind of relevant.”

“How is it relevant?” Shinichi asked.

Eisuke’s phone rang again.  “Hang on, Hattori _-san_ ’s calling.”  He accepted the call, and Heiji’s face popped up on his screen.

“Hey, sorry, the schedule change’s screwin’ wit’ me...why’s there a dove?” Heiji asked.

“It’s a relevant dove,” Shinichi said, deadpan.

“Oh, well, that clears ev’rythin’ up— except it don’t at all,” Heiji said, annoyed.  “I’m skippin’ class for this; what’s goin’ on?”

_Ohgosh how do I phrase this_ , Eisuke wondered, a bit wildly.  “You remember that neighbor I said I was spending a lot of time with?”

“What’s that got ta do wit’ anything?” Heiji asked, scowling.  “I got math class.”

“Uh, Kiyoshi, right?” Shinichi asked.  “Is she in trouble?”

Eisuke let a slightly hysterical laugh escape him.  “I thought so, but she’s not,” he said.  He thought for a second.  “Or, rather, she probably is, but no more than before.  Because it turns out that somehow, while we’ve been searching the entire United States for Hakuba, he’s been living next door to me disguised as a woman, and he figured me out before I figured him out.”

“Uh, can you repeat that?” Shinichi said in a strangled tone.

“My next door neighbor was Hakuba in disguise, he had no idea I was one of the detectives chasing him until today, and now he’s gone,” Eisuke said. 

There was a long stretch of silence, eventually broken by Heiji asking, a little too loudly, “Relevant dove?”

“Uh, yeah?” Eisuke said.  “I think they were meant to be a going-away present, when he left after taking down the local group of _Them_.  He left me instructions, but he wrote them in a rush and defaulted to his own handwriting instead of the writing he’d been using for Kiyoshi— KID- _san_ recognized it _._ ”

“Hondou _-san_ called me in a panic because his neighbor was missing,” KID said quietly.  “But there were some oddities about the way the apartment was left, and the care notes left with the doves….I wasn’t expecting _this_ , though.”

“He also erased all the case files from my computer, so I’ll need someone to encrypt their copies and resend them, after I run a few virus scans,” Eisuke said.

“You don’t think—” KID started.

“I don’t think he’d hurt my other files, but there are ways to target specific information with a virus,” Eisuke said.  “I’d rather not take chances at this point.”

“Given everything, that seems wise,” Shinichi said, a little breathily.

“How did this even—” Hattori broke off, looking overwhelmed and more than a little disheveled.

“She seemed like a normal person, the kind you’d find anywhere,” Eisuke said.  “A Japanese-American college graduate working part-time with an employment agency until she found work.  She was nice to me because she was lonely, I spent time with her because she reminded me of Hidemi _-nee_ , a little bit.”

He bit his lip.  “I told her—him—things I haven’t told anyone else.  But KID doesn’t think she was trying to trick me.”

“The way he left suggests it wasn’t when he planned to,” KID said quietly.  “The note is rushed; the change of handwriting looks accidental.  More than that; the doves were a planned going-away present.  He trained them, and that takes _time_. If this _were_ some sort of head game, he at least should have stayed long enough to give them to Spy _-san_ and watch his reaction.”

Shinichi nodded.  “That makes sense.”

“We think he was planning to leave, but then he realized I was connected to you guys and left early,” Eisuke said.

“Okay, all of this is comin’ out in bits an’ pieces,” Hattori said.  “No good tryin’ ta organize clues when they’re so scattered.  Let’s get it all straight.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer—at no point did I actually say that Kiyoshi Rogers was an OC. I just said that I needed a character for Eisuke to talk to and mentioned in the same sentence that I wasn’t going to allow any OCs to take over the plot. 
> 
> Okay, it was a little bit bad of me. However, I did leave some clues in Kiyoshi’s dialogue and if you go back and reread the chapter she appeared in, you’ll be able to see them pretty easily.
> 
> I still don’t have an exact chapter count for you but I can say for certain that things will start picking up from here on out; the next time Hakuba shows up will be the story’s proper climax. I am sorry to anyone who wasn’t expecting this to be such a long story but I hope at least some of you are enjoying the ride.
> 
> In case anyone is confused by the color of the doves, I picked them because white doves are actually pretty expensive compared to some other colorations, while the coloring of the ones in this chapter would make them a bit cheaper, but still very close to being white. The pink is not meant to be a comment on Eisuke’s masculinity, thanks.
> 
> Please leave some feedback on your way out! As a writer, it’s really good motivation to hear what you all think—and honestly, I probably deserve to be yelled at a bit for that twist.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I am very tired and kinda sick but here is a chapter. It has things I usually like in a fic in it and I hope you will like them too.
> 
> Last week, I posted a picture of [what Eisuke’s doves look like](http://ninthfeather.tumblr.com/post/148508301522/photo-credit-for-anyone-who-just-finished) and [some stuff about Kiyoshi on Tumblr](http://ninthfeather.tumblr.com/post/148511607879/some-stuff-about-kiyoshi-rogers-which-will-spoil), so check out the [Riddle in Reverse tag](http://ninthfeather.tumblr.com/tagged/riddle-in-reverse) if you’re interested (there’s also other story-related stuff there; and you can totally come there and ask me questions on anon if you want).
> 
> My autistic!Heiji headcanon hasn’t really affected the fic plot up to now, but in this chapter it’s a little more relevant than usual. The short version is that Heiji’s brain is Not Happy about this situation and so he’s having some difficulty with stuff like getting words together and being tactful in ways that affect the plot; the longer version is in the end note if you’re interested.
> 
> The end note also contains warnings and some thank-yous to people who contributed to the chapter!

Heiji wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when Eisuke called him to tell him they had to skip some school, but it sure wasn’t any of this.  He was still uneasy about the fact that he _was_ skipping school--he did that, sometimes, for cases, but his dad always gave him a hard time about it, and he was usually the one who decided to do it.  Having someone else tell him he had to, out of the blue, without telling him when he’d be able to get back or even _why_ , that had him a little pissed off, in a way that still kinda buzzed under his skin.

Added onto that, there was what Eisuke had finally gotten around to telling them, which Heiji was honestly still trying to make sense of, because Eisuke was apparently the kind of witness who got things out of order when he was upset.

Heiji frowned, and drummed a steady beat on his thigh with his fingers as he tried to focus on the facts at hand.  “Ugh, lemme get this straight, KID was in Eisuke’s apartment building—”

“No, KID’s here,” Kudou interrupted, impatient.

“Ugh, I know that, I meant Hakuba,” Heiji gritted out, at once annoyed at the interruption and frustrated with himself.   _Kudou’s gonna get annoying about this, I jus’ know it_ , he thought. _He knows what I meant_ — _I don’ see why he can’t jus’ keep ‘imself from nitpickin’ every once in a while…_

_Anyhow, it ain’t hard to mix those two up, nowadays, what with Hakuba actin’ like a scarier version o’ KID and KID’s version of detectin’ bein’ jus’ as meticulous as Hakuba’s..._

“Hakuba was here, yeah, that’s what I’m saying,” Eisuke said.

Kudou’s eyes narrowed.  “KID, why did you react to that?

“Eh?” Heiji asked.   _That...was not what I expected ‘im to focus on._

“KID _flinched_ when you said he was in Eisuke’s apartment building,” Kudou said slowly.  “Why?”

KID just grinned.  “I was just surprised _Tantei-han_ made a mistake,” he said blithely.

“You’re neither that rude nor that open with your emotions,” Kudou pressed.

“You agreed not to poke at things that would reveal my identity,” KID said.

Kudou took a breath, and then nodded slightly, as if in decision.  “Hattori, remember what I said to you all that time ago, about cornering suspects?”

“’Course,” Heiji said, half-absently running his thumb across the scar on his stomach, a memento both of Kudou’s first trip to Osaka as Conan and Heiji’s first time wrestling a gun away from a suicidal culprit.  Neither had exactly been an unequivocal success, but he wasn’t forgetting them in a hurry, either.  Kudou’s eyes followed his movement, and he knew the other detective understood.

He gave Kudou a searching look.  “H*** of a non sequitur, though.  What’re ya on about?”

“If a detective who uses his deductive powers to corner a suspect and then does nothing to stop them from committing suicide is no better than the murderer himself, what should we think about a detective who corners a suspect on the behalf of people who would definitely kill them?" Kudou asked.  “We know there’s no way to safely keep KID’s arrest from ending with him in _Their_ hands.”

“So you won’t arrest me?” KID asked, in what was nearly a whisper.

“I don’t think we can, not without unintentionally inflicting the death penalty,” Kudou said.  “And for something you’ve done with the intent of opposing _Them_ , no less.”

“Been thinkin’ along those lines awhile myself,” Heiji admitted.  “An’…if I were in yer shoes…maybe I woulda done what you did.  Who knows?”   _It’s a thing ta keep myself up at night wit’, for sure._

“Just in case it’s necessary for me to say it, I have never been interested in arresting you,” Eisuke said.

KID blinked at the rest of them, eyes wide and face pale enough for the makeup to stand out obviously.

“So, with that out of the way, can we stop dancing around your secret identity?” Kudou asked.  “I know who you are.”

KID choked.  Eisuke let out a nervous giggle.  Heiji gaped.

“Th’ actual f***, Kudou?” he managed.

“What he said,” KID put in.

“It’s your own fault,” Kudou said, a little petulantly.  “You’re the one who told me _Phantom Lady_ was your mother.”

“Oh no, I did, didn’t I?” KID said, slapping himself in the forehead.

“Did she even warn you before she impersonated you?” Kudou asked.

“I am not saying anything; you didn’t promise not to arrest her,” KID said.

“That’s a no,” Heiji said, a little gleefully.

“I’m serious, here,” KID said, frowning.

“I’m not an expert on international law, but I’m pretty sure the statute of limitations on Phantom Lady’s crimes is long past,” Kudou said calmly.

“Ah, yeah, of course,” KID said, showing about six different textbook tells of lying in tone and posture.

“Has she been stealing under another name?” Kudou asked, looking more surprised than anything.

KID quickly shook his head.

“Kudou _-san_ , what if we transferred that original agreement not to arrest KID to Phantom Lady, or whoever she actually is?” Eisuke said carefully.  “Could you agree to that?”

“Is the new persona still a phantom thief?” Kudou asked flatly.  “Because if she’s keeping things, this is going to be harder to agree to.”

“Of course!” KID said sharply.  “She’s done some _stupid_ things in the last few months, but she hasn’t crossed that line, at least.”

“Um…” Eisuke said.

KID took a deep breath.  “I’ve been covering for her, a little.  She’s a big part of the reason Hakuba left.  She got worried about him chasing me, decided to investigate him, and turned up the things about him that I told you I didn’t think I should know.”

Kudou’s expression said that a few puzzle pieces had clicked.  “You’ve been trying to lie as little as possible, haven’t you?  You practically told me that, the first time we met about all of this.”

“Guess so,” KID said.  “I don’t mind lying, but I didn’t want you to miss something important because your information was bad.  Still...she’s definitely part of the reason he’s gone.  Knowing that, will you still agree not to arrest her?”

“I think Eisuke’s suggestion is sensible,” Kudou said.  “...if she’s being that protective, does she know about this?”

“No,” KID said.  He turned pale.  “Oh.   _S***_.  She’s gonna kill me.”

“Not literally, right?”  Eisuke said, sounding actually worried.

“No, no, gosh, she’s...she’s a good person, it’s just...detectives!  Secrets!  I can’t tell you things like this without her permission!”

“That makes sense,” Kudou said.  “So, instead, what if we do what we’ve been doing with my ex-Black Org source.  You know who she is, by now, right?”

KID nodded.

“But you’ve been pretending you don’t,” Kudou said.  “I’ll do the same.”

KID nodded.  “That’s acceptable.”

Heiji was secretly a little disappointed that he didn’t get to find out who Phantom Lady was, but he was still apparently about to find out KID’s identity.  He’d take it.

“So?” he asked aloud.

“Okay, sheesh, don’t push me!” KID said, a bit shrilly.  “This is the first time I’ve ever told anyone any of this, I don’t even know where to start!”

“Your name would be a good place,” Kudou said smugly.

“And you, you can just shut up unless you can manage to stop sounding like the cat that ate the canary,” KID snapped, though the tone held no heat.

His body language was completely different—much more relaxed and easier to read.  With a jolt, Heiji realized that he was seeing whoever KID was when he wasn’t KID.  Even if KID didn’t give a name, he could see this guy in plainclothes and recognize things about the way he moved and gestured.  Not that Heiji would be able to _read_ all of it—the lexicon he’d spent the last few months constructing for all of KID’s various facial twitches and subtle posture changes was likely going to be useless for the person behind the facade.  But the fact that they were seeing it at all...

So this was what KID trusting them felt like.

KID very deliberately ran a hand through his hair, then mussed it until it stuck out everywhere.  He looked up at them with a smile that wasn’t quite KID’s, though Heiji couldn’t lay a finger on what _made_ it not KID’s—there was something different about the brittleness of it, maybe?  But he couldn’t say for sure if it was more brittle, or less.

“My name’s Kuroba Kaito, Ekoda High Class 2-B,” KID said.  His voice was no longer KID’s rolling baritone— it was just a bit higher, and his Tokyo accent now colored his pronunciation instead of just affecting word choice.

“That’s Hakuba’s class,” Eisuke said.

KID— Kuroba— nodded.  “He’s in my homeroom.  Accused me of being KID in front of everyone, once.”  Of all things, he smiled nostalgically at that.

“ _Seriously_?” Kudou asked.

“Since then, almost no one’s seriously suspected me,” Kuroba half-chirped.  “He all but admitted to doing it on purpose to Phantom Lady.”

Kudou let out a huff of surprise.

“So, you’re our age,” Eisuke said.  And then, more hesitantly, “...KID’s been around long enough that it couldn’t have always been you.”

There was something of KID back in Kuroba’s expression—a certain neutral distance that Heiji recognized as belonging to the thief persona.  Given circumstances, Heiji’s first guess would normally have been that Eisuke’s question crossed a line, but Kuroba’s reaction didn’t quite fit that.  Heiji remembered that argument between KID and Kudou after Omsk, and watching the thief’s neutral expression fall into place like an iron gate slamming down.  This wasn’t that—there was something less harsh about it, though puzzling out what exactly was a bit beyond Heiji at the moment.

“I guess you could say I inherited the title?” he said lightly.

“My father and Kuroba Toichi were friends,” Kudou said quietly.  “And he was mom’s teacher.  This...explains a lot.”

Kuroba’s eyes flicked to him, keen, with an edge of interest that broke through the KID-like remove just a bit.  “Like what?”

“Ran and I met KID, once, when we were kids,” Kudou said.  “He was trying to get us to help him leave a riddle for Dad but I insisted on trying to solve it myself.  I guess now I know why Dad felt comfortable having an ongoing game with an international thief.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Kuroba said, tone uncomfortable, but expression still blanketed in KID’s impassiveness.

In that moment, a few particularly ugly-looking puzzle pieces fell into place for Heiji.  Kuroba Toichi was famous enough that his manner of death was a matter of entertainment news, and it didn’t take a genius intellect to realize _why_ KID had reacted badly to Hakuba’s use of explosives in Omsk.  

_Oh, h***, he’s pretendin’ he don’t care for his own sake as much as he is for ours, isn’t he?_ Heiji realized, more exhausted than anything by the new information. _Screw me, but Kudou jus’ attracts pieces o’ work._

He swore out loud, and found everyone staring at him.

_S***_.   _Um, how do I explain this?_ he thought. _I mean, I can’t lie.  Well, I can, but I’m s*** at it and Kudou’s both real good at catchin’ me and paranoid as h***.  Never mind KID, who’s prob’ly jus’ as good and...well, I’m sure he’d like us ta think he ain’t as paranoid but I don’t know I trust him on that.  And they’re both high-strung as h*** righ now_ — _I can practically feel the tension all the way from Osaka.  Lyin’ won’t help a thing._

_‘Sides, I do owe the guy an apology, don’t I?_

“Uh, sorry about poking at you when I thought Hakuba might have bombs in Omsk,” Heiji said to Kuroba.  “That was...really, it woulda been kinda outta line anyhow, I know you kinda got a thing about people not gettin’ hurt, but it was a lot farther outta line than I thought it was.”

Kuroba blinked at him, mouth slightly open.  “Uh, it’s okay, really?” he said, sounding uncertain.

Heiji raised an eyebrow.  “Yer allowed to be upset, ya know.”

“But you didn’t know, and it’s not as if—” Kuroba shook his head.  “Ugh.  Whatever.  Okay, Eisuke, do you know what happened to my dad?”

“I have Google,” Eisuke said.  “He sounds like a really impressive person.  I’m sorry for your loss.”

Kuroba smiled at Eisuke, but it looked even more brittle than before.  “Yeah, he was.  So, yeah, he was the mentor I was talking about.”

“How’d he train Hakuba?” Heiji asked.

Kudou gave him a sharp look, which Heiji didn’t really understand and thus ignored.

Kuroba’s barely-there smile flattened out.  “That’s a Hakuba’s-privacy kind of question.”

Heiji sighed.

“So, only the last few years were you,” Kudou said.  “That’s still a lot of getting shot at for someone just about our age.”

“You should talk,” Kuroba replied, annoyed.

“It was only a few times!”

“Bulletproof glasses, _Tantei-kun_ ,” Kuroba said, with an air of exhaustion.

“After you got shot into Osaka Bay,” Kudou replied sulkily.

Eisuke made an alarmed noise, which was echoed by a warbling noise and the sound of fluttering.

“Have you named him yet?” Kuroba asked, instantly distracted.

“Not yet,” Eisuke said.  “I’d take suggestions, but we’d get way too far off track.  Okay, so you’re Kuroba Kaito.  What _does_ that let you tell us that you couldn’t before?”

“Well, everything I know about Hakuba comes from either spending time in class with him or Mom interrogating him,” Kuroba said.  “So I can at least be less vague.”

“That’s a start,” Eisuke said.  “And...if he knows you, personally…”

“That’s a big part of his motivation for protecting me,” Kuroba said.  “Though, there’s another thing—look, it’s not only private, it’s complicated and you’re never going to believe me.”

“You thought we wouldn’t believe you about the gem you’re looking for,” Kudou pointed out.

“I’m not sure _Tantei_ - _han_ does,” Kuroba said.  “You seem to, and Eisuke trusts me for whatever weird reason, but—”

“I believe ya,” Heiji interrupted.  “It’s still yer decision, whether ta trust us or not.  But time’s running out.  We don’t know where he is again.  S***’s gettin’ a li’l desperate.”

“It is, at that,” Kuroba agreed, with a strained laugh.

“I think we’re at a point where my asking Vermouth about how close _They_ are to finding him would be worth it,” Kudou said.

“Oh no,” Kuroba said with passion.  “You are not telling me you set up all of this just so you could take away my ability to convincingly pretend to be the adult in the situation and overrule you and your _stupid reckless plans_.  I like my detectives intact.”

“I told you before, she won’t kill me,” Kudou said firmly.

“You’re the ones who have been introducing me to all the lovely things our opponents can do before they resort to anything as pedestrian as death,” Kuroba said. “It’s not worth it.  We’ll think of something else.”

“What?” Kudou demanded.  “It’s been _months_.  Even with Hakuba’s skills, there’s only so much one person can do to avoid a network that enormous.  Especially while actively provoking them.  They have to at least have noticed what he’s doing, so it’s no longer so much of a risk to Hakuba to ask.”

“It’s still somewhat of a risk, though,” Eisuke said.  “And Kuroba _-san_ is right.  You’ll still be at risk, too, even if you know she won’t kill you.”

“I did _not_ convince you to tell us who you were just so you couldn’t overrule my decision,” Kudou said. “I was just tired of dancing around your identity.  And I’m tired of not knowing how much danger Hakuba is in, too.  The way we’ve been investigating is reliable, but _slow_ —if it turns out Hakuba’s in immediate danger, there’s no way that tracking crime rates will get us there quickly enough.”

Kaito frowned, then swore.  “You have a point.”

Eisuke looked nervous. “I guess this wasn’t such a good idea, then...”

Kudou blinked.  “What, the crime rate tracking?” he asked.  “No, it was a great idea, back when this all started. But it’s been over two months, now, that Hakuba’s been missing, and a slow method like that one might not be enough anymore.  An investigation needs to be responsive, you know?”

Eisuke smiled a little.  “Yeah, that makes sense.”  And then paused.  “But I still don’t like the risk.  Why exactly isn’t she going to kill you, again?”

Kudou squirmed a bit—or, at least, his movement in front of the camera gave the impression that he was squirming.  “Uh, Ran and I saved her life once.  It’s a long story.”

Eisuke narrowed his eyes.  “That doesn’t seem right.  What about since then?  How do you know she won’t kill you?”

“Well, there’s been a few times we encountered her since then and she’s chosen not to kill us—” he broke off, with a frown that wrinkled his nose

“We need to know,” Eisuke insisted.

“She’s given me information, before,” Kudou said.  “During the Mah-Jongg Serial Killer case...and a few other times, too.  She acts like she thinks I’m useful.”

“So she thinks you’re a potential asset,” Eisuke said, eyes wide.

Kudou blinked.  “Asset?”

“I’m training to be in the CIA, remember?” Eisuke asked, words slow and tone gentle.  “Kudou _-san_ , it sounds like she’s trying to _recruit_ you.”

Kudou froze, statue-still, eyes wide and terrified.

“Okay, I want to take my original objection to this plan and multiply it by _twenty_ ,” Kuroba said with feeling.

“God, I’d even be the right age…” Kudou said, voice faint.  Then, he stopped short.  “Wait.  No.  That doesn’t make sense.  She doesn’t seem...loyal enough for that.  She acts outside of orders enough that her coworkers notice.”

“Does she hafta be recruitin’ ya ta _Them_ ta be recruitin’ ya?” Heiji asked.  “If she was plannin’ ta leave, or ta stage some kinda coup...all of the trouble ya cause _Them_ would be the perfect opportunity.”  

He tried to ignore the way his stomach churned at the thought of Kudou in the same room as Vermouth for more than ten minutes.

“It would, at that,” Kuroba agreed.  “She might also simply want an apprentice.” He laughed harshly.  “She trained with my father, you know, perhaps she wants to continue the tradition?”

Kudou looked distinctly unsettled.

“She could have a number of reasons for wanting you as a source, but it seems likely that _she_ , specifically, wants you, rather than her, ah, employer,” Eisuke said. “After all, they don’t know what you are, and if they did they would kill you.  She must be keeping you a secret. Which affords you a little safety, at least.”

“Not enough,” Kuroba said darkly.

“No,” Eisuke agreed.  “Which is why you need to be _extremely careful_ when you do this, Kudou _-san_.  Tell her you know what she’s doing, if you have to.  And don’t tell her _anything_ that could be dangerous.”

“You’re _enabling_ it?” Kuroba demanded.

“If we tell ‘im not to do it, he’ll sneak off an’ do it anyway,” Heiji said, a little more viciously than absolutely necessary.

Kudou glared.

“Yer the one who reminded me of the Naniwa Serial Murderer case,” Heiji said, glaring right back.  “When I told ya ta leave the rest of the case ta me because it was _dangerous,_ ya pretended to be an actual kid, clung ta my leg, and when that didn’t work, snuck outta the police car and onta the crime scene anyway.”

“You confronted the criminal alone,” Kudou muttered.

“You jumped between _Nee-chan_ an’ a murderer, like _that_ ,” Heiji snapped.  “Ya could at least try ta pretend ya know how ta be careful.”

“Look, one of us had to go to the hospital after that case, and it _wasn’t_ me, so why don’t you just lay off,” Kudou replied testily.

Kuroba made a small whimpering noise.

“I think the two of you are doing bad things to Kuroba _-san_ ’s blood pressure,” Eisuke said.

“He’s probably singlehandedly responsible for Inspector Nakamori’s, so I don’t really see the problem,” Kudou said, unperturbed.

“That’s hereditary, I keep _telling_ Aoko—” Kuroba broke off, looking cornered.

“Oh my gosh, you _know_ them, don’t ya?” Heiji said, in unabashed wonder.  “Are ya—are ya actually friends with the head of the KID Task Force and his daughter?”

Kuroba actually turned a bit red.  “I do _not_ have to answer that.”

“You’re _actually_ worse off than me,” Kudou said, almost reverently.  “I didn’t think that was _possible_.”

“I’m not—It’s not like—” Kuroba broke off at the mounting disbelief on the others’ faces.  “You’re not buying it.”

“You called her by her first name, and the way you paused didn’t make it seem like you broke off before the honorific,” Kudou said.  “It sounded like you just don’t _use_ one.”

“Um.”

“You could try _not_ poking into every one of Kuroba _-san’_ s secrets, Kudou _-san_ ,” Eisuke admonished.  “I don’t think this is relevant to the case.”

Kuroba chuckled awkwardly.  “Okay, now you actually have me; it might be.  Aoko’s my childhood friend, Hakuba...had a thing for her, I guess?  He flirted with her a lot when he first transferred in, but then he stopped.  His dad said he thought she liked someone else.”

“No points for guessing who?” Kudou said, with something like sympathy to his tone.  “How’d you get to be childhood friends with the _daughter of the head of your task force_?”

“We’re next door neighbors,” Kuroba said, shrugging.  “And, um, it’s not like I _knew_ , when I made friends with Aoko.”

“Well, if ya were really young, I guess he wouldn’t’ve told ya yet,” Heiji said.  “Li’l kids ain’t so good wit’ secrets.”

Kuroba’s expression froze again, and Eisuke’s eyes narrowed at the change.  “It’s more than that,” he said.  “You’re like me.  You didn’t find out _at all_ until you were older.”

Heiji connected the dots and swallowed dryly.   _‘Til after his dad was dead, Eisuke means._

He nodded.  “Yeah,” he said.  He suddenly grinned.  “But, hey, now that all of this is out, we can officially look down on _Tantei-kun_ for being the only one who isn’t planning to continue in the family business.”

“Dad does detective work too!” Kudou protested.

“Yeah, but he’s a novelist by trade,” Heiji said.  “KI-Kuroba _-han_ ’s got a point.  I’m gonna be police, he’s a thief—”

“I’m also a rising professional magician,” Kuroba practically sing-songed.

“And Hondou _-han_ ’s going for the CIA,” Heiji said.  “Yer the odd man out.”

“To be fair, would you _want_ me following in their footsteps?” Kudou asked, scowling.

“Okay, no,” Heiji grimaced. _I don’t want ya turnin’ out a thing like those two.  Bad enough that ya got raised by ‘em._ “But professionally?”

“I’m a mediocre writer and a worse actor,” Kudou said flatly.  “I’ll stick to detective work.”

“Ugh, _critics_ ,” Kuroba said, with a roll of his eyes.

Kudou made a small noise of offense.

Sobering, Kuroba sighed. “If you’re that determined to go through with it...there are some risks I can take, too, if it turns out that Hakuba really is in immediate danger.  So, let us know when you find out.”

Kudou frowned.  “Of course,” he said.

Kuroba clapped his hands.  “Then, I think we’ve all had enough excitement for the night, what do you guys think?  Or does anyone else have an Earth-shattering revelation to contribute?   _Tantei-han_ , anything?”

Heiji chuckled and shook his head.  “Nah, I’m good.”

“ _Thank God_ ,” Eisuke murmured in English.

Heiji caught him grinning when that pulled a giggle out of Kuroba.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for discussion of canon character death, mourning, some unpleasant implications related to what Vermouth might canonically want Shinichi for, vague implications about how crap the Kudous are at parenting, and a lot of really intense, emotionally charged discussion. 
> 
> I owe [miladyRanger](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2514975/miladyRanger) a lot of credit for this chapter. The way I write Kaito draws heavily on the way she writes and conceptualizes him, and she caught a lot of really nasty errors in the first chapter as a result. Additionally, I want to thank [donahermurphy](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/973954/donahermurphy) of FFN for giving me permission to use her idea of having Heiji notice the similarities between the way Kaito operates as a detective and the way Hakuba does. She also guessed that KID telling Shinichi that Phantom Lady was his mom would be relevant not long after I wrote this chapter but _way_ before it was published.
> 
> To explain what’s going on with Heiji a little more--resistance to change is a common trait among autistics, but it shows up in every person differently. A headcanon I have is that for Heiji, who is a Japanese student and thus stuck with a pretty regimented schedule anyway, this trait shows up in him feeling most comfortable when he has a schedule that he knows about ahead of time and is more-or-less in control of. (That doesn’t stop him from springing things on Kudou; Heiji’s a good guy but occasionally really thoughtless.) So this sudden unexplained during-school meeting is a bigger disruption for him than it is for the others, and dealing with that, combined with the sheer surprise of the information presented (which is enough to throw everyone off) is taking available focus away from other tasks. Specifically, getting his thoughts together into coherent words, reading subtle social cues, and remembering all the relevant social rules he’d need to use in order to be tactful. 
> 
> Edit 8/16/16: [Link to art of Heiji in this chapter](http://ninthfeather.tumblr.com/post/148850198680/th-actual-f-kudou-anyone-who-already-read)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate it. I really love reading reviews, too, so leave me one if you have the time?


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m slowly approaching the end of my chapter buffer, but I’m trying to keep up with this anyway. 
> 
> Also, if you’re someone who finds the content warnings useful, I’m gonna give you a little bit of a heads up about the next few chapters. There’s not going to be more violence and I don’t write sex, but now that there are fewer secrets between the Gosho Boys there are some fraught conversations to be had. The low standard of parenting in the DCMK universe and the full complements of psychological issues that some of the characters have, in particular, are going to be relevant to the story and are also things I find interesting to write about.
> 
> I will do my best to provide a full and accurate summary of the material most likely to be sensitive in the end-notes; I’m hoping you guys can skip chapters and/or sections as needed.
> 
> This chapter would be a mess without miladyRanger; thank heaven for beta-readers.

One of the few advantages of Shinichi’s current situation was that crowds didn’t present the same challenges for him that they had when he was an eighteen-year-old of average height.  Of course, he could no longer stand on tiptoe and see over the mass of people gathered around a cordoned-off shopping mall in the Ginza, but it was both easy and socially acceptable for a young child to weave between people’s legs, avoiding shoes and ducking under bags, in an attempt to get through.

It still took him a good fifteen minutes to make it to the barrier of black-and-white striped industrial tape that cut the mall off from the rest of the world.  It made the area almost look like a crime scene, but, for once, it wasn’t.

Yes, there was a body a few meters away, covered in something red—but the body was still breathing and wholly uninjured, and the “blood” was manufactured in bulk by a special effects company, tinted a specific shade that was too bright for anything but immediate post-mortem bleeding, but would certainly look nice under the industrial spotlights set up across the area.

Away from the in-use set, actors, costumers, makeup artists, prop masters, extras and others whose roles Shinichi couldn’t quite tell from their dress and bearing alone bustled around.  The special effects supervisor seemed to be absent; the director and the producer were staring at the “dead” actor speculatively.  A few feet away from them, though, was the reason Shinichi was here in the first place—Sharon Vineyard, wearing a short auburn wig and a slinky black dress, stood a few feet away, obviously waiting for a cue.

Shinichi couldn’t afford to stay and watch her shoot the scene.  Who knew if any of her colleagues were watching as well?  His interest could be noticed.

So, he inhaled, gathered all of his courage, and dashed across the set.

“Hey, hey, Vineyard _ -san _ , can I have your autograph?”  he piped, pushing his voice into its most annoying register.

Vermouth turned around, shock registering on her face for less than half a second.  “You shouldn’t be on the set, boy.  Actors are doing their work right now.”

“But I  _ need _ an autograph!” he whined.

Vermouth smiled, shark-like, lips glistening wetly with bloodred lipstick.  “Well, then, why don’t we go off to the side for a little bit and I’ll sign whatever you like.”

Shinichi followed her behind one of the cast trailers, heart pounding in his chest.

“So, what do you want, Cool Guy?” Vermouth asked.  “I don’t believe it’s really just an autograph.”

“Hardly,” Shinichi replied.  “What I want is information.”

“You’ll have to earn that,” Vermouth replied.  “Give me something, and I’ll give you something in return.”

Instantly wary, Shinichi asked, “What do you want to know?”

“That scientist girl—” Vermouth started, lips curled into a smirk.

“No,” Shinichi said firmly.  “Ask something else.”

“You shouldn’t make your weaknesses so obvious,” Vermouth prodded.

“She’s not—she’s just not involved in this,” Shinichi said, throat tight.

“Your Poker Face needs work,” Vermouth critiqued, capitalizing ‘Poker Face’ in her speech somehow.  “But if you insist.  Hmmm…I suppose it wouldn’t be worth asking whether your little FBI contingent has friends in Russia.”

Shinichi flinched.   _ So they did notice _ .

“So you do know something about that,” Vermouth said, grin turning catlike.  “I don’t need to know  _ everything _ , just some small detail, and then you can ask me anything you like.”

_ Not that you’ll necessarily answer _ , Shinichi thought.  Aloud, he said, “It wasn’t the FBI.”

Vermouth’s eyes narrowed, all false playfulness gone in an instant.  “Who, then?”

“I promised to give you something,” Shinichi said, crossing his arms.  “That was something.  Are you going to keep your end of the deal?”

“I’m a criminal, why are you expecting me to honor deals?” Vermouth said lightly.

“Because you’re cultivating me as an asset and you know that if you screw me over now, I’m not coming back,” Shinichi said, with considerably more bravado than he felt.   _ Eisuke had better be right about this _ .  “Or, if you didn’t know that, you do now.”

“As expected from my Silver Bullet,” Vermouth said.  “Go ahead, ask your question.”

Shinichi very carefully did not waver on his feet out of sheer relief, but it was a near thing.

“Are you tracking whoever was responsible for what happened in Omsk?” he asked.

“Well, you don’t hold back,” Vermouth said, amused.  “We’re trying, but they keep shaking us.  Once we catch up with them…it’s going to be ugly.  An ally of yours?”

“No,” Shinichi said.  _ Friend, maybe, at one point.  Opponent, definitely.  But, right now, ‘ally’ is the last thing I’d call him. _

“I hope you’re telling the truth,” Vermouth said, almost philosophically.  “Because whoever it is  _ will _ die, and I’d hate to see them drag you down with them.” 

_ So they do plan to kill him _ , Shinichi thought.   _ I guess I already knew that.  But the confirmation…I can’t exactly say it’s nice, but it’s useful. _

He pushed his voice back up into the chirping high register.  “Thank you, Vineyard _ -san! _ ” he said, waving, and dashing off before she could ask further questions or get any more information from him.

Just before he left the set entirely, he caught a glimpse of Vermouth’s edged smirk out of the corner of his eye.

He hadn’t quite gotten it out of his mind even hours later, when Kuroba Kaito walked into the apartment for the night’s meeting, grin cocky and bright.

“No disguise at all this time?” Shinichi asked.

Kaito grinned even wider.  “No point.  You know who I am now.  And makeup’s expensive.  You’re related to Yukiko- _ oba-san _ , you have to know that much.”

Shinichi goggled.  “Did you call her that to her  _ face _ ?” he gasped as he sat down near the phone.

Kaito shrugged, and settled into the chair.  “I was actually the age you look like, so my cuteness saved me.  But looking back, it was a close thing.”

Shinichi shuddered.  “You have  _ no idea _ .”  He thought for a moment.  “Do we have a good explanation for Kuroba Kaito being here, in case anyone takes note?”

“You wanted to speak with someone who knew Hakuba, and then I pushed my way into the investigation because I was worried,” Kaito said, without so much as pausing.  “I’m not much help, but I don’t get in the way and every once in awhile I say something useful, so none of you have kicked me out yet.”

Shinichi grinned.  “I like it.  If you actually  _ were _ like that, you’d still be better than Mouri- _ oji-san _ most days.”

Kaito’s grin twitched up at one corner.  “If someone asks, tell that joke.”

“Inexperienced liars are usually too nervous to joke around,” Shinichi agreed, with a nod.

“Except we’re not inexperienced,” Kaito said, and there was a hint of dark humor to it.

“But we’re good enough that no one knows we aren’t,” Shinichi replied, in the same tone. 

There was a brief moment of silence--not so much awkward as weighted, because the last time they’d spoken, the sheer adrenaline of the moment hadn’t let how much they had in common really sink in.  Now it was all humming in the air between them, unspoken yet totally obvious to both.  They were far from identical, certainly, but the tangled messes of lies they were caught up in mirrored one another, and so did many of the abilities they’d developed to survive. 

To Shinichi, at least, the idea that someone might understand any of this...well, back when he’d first found out, it had been hysterical, in the truest sense of the word.  He’d needed to laugh because otherwise he wasn’t sure what other emotions would present themselves.  Now, it was a little frightening.  There was a part of him that still thought of KID as a rival, and to think that he might understand Shinichi this well…it didn’t sit comfortably with him, not at all.  Beneath all the fear, though, there was a tinge of sadness.  It was bad enough that  _ he _ had to do this, how had  _ They _ managed to twist up someone else’s life this way, too?

Kaito’s pensive expression suggested that he was thinking along similar lines.

“I never wanted to end up like this either,” Kaito said, very quietly.  “In case you were wondering.  I like being KID, love it even, but I hate the lying about as much as you seem to.”

Brought up short by the unexpected honesty, Shinichi faltered for a second.  Finally, he managed.  “It’s not hard to see that, if you’re looking.”

“As expected from the Heisei Holmes, I guess,” Kaito said, all cheer once again. 

“Look, the media came up with the nickname, not me--” Shinichi started.

“Don’t try to tell me you weren’t thrilled about it, though,” Kaito accused.

“I was pretty thrilled,” Shinichi admitted.  “But it was all that media attention that led to Gin and Vodka deciding I was enough of a threat that they needed to poison me.”

The joy washed out of Kaito’s smile in an instant.  It was disturbing to watch.  “I see.”

“You can be a good detective without being known as a _Meitantei_ ,” Shinichi said.  “That’s what I’d like to do, if I can.”

“Are you even capable of not grandstanding, though?” Kaito asked, with what sounded like genuine curiosity. 

Shinichi scowled at the question, but at least it had been accompanied by a small smile instead of that pained rictus of a grin. 

“That’s rich, coming from _ you _ ,” he said.

“I’m going to be a professional magician, grandstanding is a job skill,” Kaito replied loftily.

Shinichi was about to reply when the phone rang.  He answered, and Hattori appeared on the screen.

“You know there’s pictures of you runnin’ onto the set of that movie shoot earlier today online?” he asked, not even bothering with a greeting.

“Shoot, I thought I got all of them!” Kaito exclaimed, sounding put out.

Shinichi looked up at him, caught between incredulity and anger.

“It wasn’t exactly hard to guess when you were going to meet with her,” Kaito said, sheepish.  “And it would be bad if anyone found photos of you and her and made any connections, right?”

“Yes, it would be,” Shinichi said slowly.  “I appreciate the help.   But is that all you did?”

Kaito’s face went blank.

That was one of KID’s tells.

“ _ You followed me! _ ” he accused, jumping to his feet. 

“Oh hey look Eisuke’s calling!” Kaito said quickly.

Eisuke was calling, so Shinichi picked up the call, then went back to yelling at Kaito.

“The  _ h*** _ did you think you were doing?” he demanded.

“Um, providing extra backup if needed?” Kaito said, in an almost questioning tone.

“What’s going on?” Eisuke asked.

“Kuroba- _ san _ was stalking me is what’s going on!” Shinichi fumed.

“I’ve followed you around before and you never seemed to mind,” Kaito said.

“Because you were KID and I had no idea why you were doing it, but it usually ended in me not dying, getting injured, or being kidnapped, which I liked,” Shinichi said, trying to keep his tone reasonable.  “But now, I have been working with you for months.  I know your name.  We  _ talk regularly _ .  Did it ever occur to you to  _ ask me _ ?”

“I thought you’d say no,” Kaito said, in a tone that suggested he thought he was being reasonable.

_ Dang it, I got confused and thought I was talking with a sane person _ , Shinichi thought.

“That’s not a reason not to ask,” Eisuke said, in the tone of someone explaining something to a very small child.

“But--he was doing something dangerous, without backup--and he is  _ very bad _ at asking for help, even when he needs it, you know this,  _ Tantei-han _ ,” Kaito said, glancing at the phone in desperation.

“So ya ask him and then ya argue with him and ya get me on yer side and we force him to at least let ya bug him or something,” Hattori said.  He paused.  “Tell me ya didn’t bug him too.”

“No, that would be creepy,” Kaito said, wide-eyed.

Shinichi buried his face in his palms and moaned.

“Okay, I think this is just a really bad miscommunication,” Eisuke said quickly.  “This would have been totally appropriate when you only knew Kaito as KID, right?”

“Well, not  _ appropriate _ , but…” Shinichi sighed.  “Expected, at least?  And I would’ve been more grateful than annoyed.”

“Sort of like how you probably wouldn’t have asked as many prying questions last time if it had been  _ me _ instead of KID,” Eisuke said.

“...Yeah,  _ that _ ,” Shinichi admitted, chagrined. “We might be a little  _ too _ used to casually violating each other’s privacy.”

“So, you’re saying that  _ colleagues _ should probably work a little differently than  _ interesting criminal  _ and  _ favorite critic _ ,” Kaito said slowly.  “I think I can handle that.”

“If it don’t work different, I’ve been doin’ things completely wrong for a while,” Hattori muttered.

Shinichi laughed.  “I can handle that, too.  Sorry I overreacted, Kuroba _ -san _ .”

“Nah, thinking about it this way, it was weirder than I thought it was,” Kaito said, with a lopsided grin.  “So, with that out of the way, what did she tell you?”

Shinichi sobered.  “ _ They _ don’t know where he is, and he’s staying ahead of  _ Them _ ...but if they track him down, _ They  _ are definitely going to kill him.”

Hattori swore, scowling.

“It’s not like we really expected to hear anything different,” Eisuke said softly.

“Even so, this means we need to move more quickly, if we can,” Shinichi said.  “I’ve been wondering how, though.”

“You said something, Kuroba _ -san... _ about risks you could take,” Eisuke said.  “What did you mean?”

Kuroba swallowed.  “Remember how I knew Hakuba was in North America?” 

Shinichi nodded.

“The person who told me told me by accident...but I can ask her on purpose this time.  It’s risky, but I can still ask,” Kuroba said.

“Risky how?” Hattori asked.

“Uh…” Kuroba said.

“Kuroba _ -kun _ ?” Eisuke prompted.

“Keep in mind, my life is kind of strange, just as a baseline,” Kuroba said. 

“We will,” Hattori said, looking impatient.

“She has tried to kill me before, and, um, do other things, but I see her pretty much every day and she’s been almost no threat since then, so it should be fine,” Kuroba said.

“ _ What _ ,” Shinichi didn’t so much ask as demand.

“Um, she goes to school with me?” Kuroba half-squeaked.

“Is she one of  _ Them? _ ” Eisuke asked.

“No,” Kuroba said.  “ _ Definitely  _ not, she would never—”

“Then, if she’s tried to kill you, why have you not gotten this person arrested, exactly?” Eisuke asked.

“Um, thief, she tried to kill me as KID, no one actually cares except the Task Force and anyhow, they’d arrest me before I could report her,” Kuroba said.  “Besides, she made a mistake, that’s all.”

“Kuroba _ -kun, _ we would care,” Shinichi managed, past the Tokyo-sized lump in his throat.  “Even before all of this, if you’d told me as KID that someone had tried to murder you, I would have chased them down to the ends of the Earth.  Just so we’re clear.  There’s a good chance if I’d had confirmation about those snipers before I found out they were with  _ Them _ , I would have done something  _ very _ stupid.”

Kuroba looked like he’d been hit upside the head with something, which Shinichi chose to take as meaning that he had been heard and understood.

“Attempted murder ain’t exactly jus’ a mistake,” Hattori added.  “An’ I’m secondin’ what Kudou said, jus’ so ya know.”

“Kudou’s sheltering the person who helped poison him,” Kuroba pointed out.  “And…the  _ h*** Tantei _ - _ han _ , you barely knew me before all of this!”

“Thief or not, you’re a person,” Hattori said simply.  “Plus, I tend ta help Kudou out with his stupid decisions.”

Kaito was deliberately tipping his head forward in a way that suggested that he found his current expression embarrassing in some way.

“Also, nice try with distracting me—it’s completely different with the person Kudou’s shelterin’!” Hattori said.  “She wasn’t dangerous ta anyone anymore, and Kudou knew it, well, except for the one time.  Yours sounds like she’s a threat still. It ain’t the same thing at all!”

Kaito looked up, skin around his eyes slightly red, and snapped, “No one’s gonna even believe me if I tell them what she did, so what’s the point?”

He took a breath.  “Besides, she’s really trying to be better now.  Hakuba…did something.  I’m not exactly sure what, but it shook her up.  She’s been less scary, since then.”

“Define less scary,” Eisuke said, flatly.

“More respect for my free will, actually listening when I tell her not to try to lock me in closets, that sort of thing,” Kuroba said.

Hattori’s expression was incredulous.  “Was that supposed ta make sense?”

“…it doesn’t?” Kaito asked, perplexed.

“You know what, we don’t really need to know, beyond how sure you are that she won’t try to kill you,” Shinichi said, feeling very tired.

“Very sure,” Kaito said firmly.  “She’s said she has a vested interest in keeping me alive.  I’m pretty sure her trying to kill me the one time was just her losing her temper, and she’s changed a  _ lot _ since then.  She’s still…dangerous, but I really don’t think she’d actually kill me.”

“There are still a lot of qualifiers in that sentence,” Eisuke said.

“A lotta people don’t know themselves that they’re gonna commit murder ‘til they do it so it would be kinda unfair to expect Kuroba _ -han _ ta give a 100% for certain prediction,” Hattori said.

“Not helping, Hattori,” Shinichi said absently.  He turned to Kuroba.  “Kuroba _ -san,  _ don’t take this kind of risk lightly.  We have reason to believe that Hakuba _ -san  _ cares a lot about you, which means we need you to convince him to come back here.”

He cleared his throat, not quite willing to meet his once-rival’s eyes.  “That’s not the only reason I’d like you to be careful. If you’re wrong, this will be the second near-death experience in roughly three months.  I’d really prefer you avoid that.”

“Concerned,  _ Tantei-kun _ ?” Kaito asked, tone all KID’s teasing.

“ _ Yes _ , you incredible moron,” Shinichi bit out.  “We don’t have any better leads, and I was the one who set a precedent for this sort of thing, so I can’t tell you that you  _ can’t _ do this, but I would really like to.”

Kaito’s face had gone completely blank, and he looked as though he had frozen, mid-breath.

“ _ I’m _ concerned by how weird he seems to find other people worrying about him,” Eisuke said, almost idly.

“Me too,” Heiji agreed.  “Think we should give him some time to process it?”

“Seems like the polite thing to do,” Shinichi said.  “Go ahead and talk to this person, Kuroba _ -san _ , but please be careful.  I’m going to head home now, and the other two will hang up, so you can have some time to think about how having allies means that sometimes other people get to worry about you, and not always the other way around.”

“Next maybe we can tell him about how he doesn’t always have to be backup, and that other people can back  _ him _ up sometimes, too,” Heiji said in a mock whisper, giggling.

“I’m not sure he’s quite ready for that,” Eisuke said, in complete seriousness.

“Seriously, you two, hang up or I hang up on you,” Shinichi said, frowning.

“Actually, please do that,” Hattori said.  “I wanna talk to Eisuke a bit, if ya don’t mind.”

“Suit yourselves,” Shinichi said, hanging up and, very slowly, placing the phone on the floor.

“I wasn’t joking about leaving,” he said quietly to Kaito, who still hadn’t moved.  “I’ll disappear this time, so you don’t have to.  But think about trusting us a little, okay?”

There was irony to that statement, of course, when he was leaving the apartment to go back to the Mouri’s and lie to Ran, but…Everyone needed someone they could trust. 

Somehow, Ran had stopped being that person to him.  But he at least had Haibara and Hattori.  Who, exactly, did KID have? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Characters threatening each other, depiction of people disrespecting each other’s boundaries badly but then resolving the matter in a mature way, not entirely unfounded accusations of stalking related to that, a callback to the Red Tear heist and the continuing parallels between what she pulled on KID and issues of sexual consent, depiction of self-worth issues, notably in the form of a character completely and totally disregarding their own safety and then being surprised when other people are upset by that.
> 
> These children are pieces of work, _help._


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real life is a mess right now but I continue to update! Please see the end-note for warnings, as most of this chapter is inside of Kaito’s head and I think most of you have noticed that I haven’t been writing the most psychologically stable interpretation of his character.
> 
> Thanks to miladyRanger, as this version of Kaito is as much hers as it is mine, and she was invaluable in working out the issues in this chapter.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Eisuke asked, a bit puzzled, as he suddenly found himself the sole target of Hattori Heiji’s intense stare.

“You’re worried about Kuroba _-han_ ,” Hattori said, without preface.

Confused, Eisuke replied, “…I thought the point of the last conversation was that _everyone_ was concerned about Kuroba _-san_.”

“Well, yeah, but there’s concerned an’ there’s _concerned_ ,” Hattori said.  He scowled, and ran a hand through his hair.  “Ugh, I’m not explainin’ it right.  “Not about him gettin’ killed.  About the state o’ his head.”

_Oh_ , Eisuke thought.  “Maybe a little, yes,” he said.

“He an’ Kudou are startin’ to realize how much they have in common,” Hattori said.  “Which is makin’ me realize how much they have in common.  Which I do not like, especially when you add it to KID’s baseline crazy.”

“Excuse me?” Eisuke managed.

“Okay, tact isn’t my strong suit, sorry,” Hattori said brusquely.  “Look, jus’ in order ta _be_ KID, ya gotta be willin’ ta pull risky stunts, risk arrest and get shot at on a regular basis.  Maybe it ain’t crazy but it sure ain’t the normal kinda sane, either.”

“Okay, you have a point,” Eisuke agreed.

“And now it’s seeming like he’s got Kudou’s control-freak tendencies and his habit of keeping secrets from everyone around him, _an’_ the paranoia ta match on top o’ that,” Hattori said.  “’Scuse me fer bein’ worried.”

“I don’t blame you for being worried,” Eisuke said.  “ _I’m_ worried.  About both of them.”

“Can’t drag ‘em to therapy or somethin’ without puttin’ their secrets and their _lives_ at risk, can’t let ‘em carry on like this much longer without the same problems,” Hattori said, with a distinct air of someone who’s been through a dilemma enough times for it to have become familiar.  “Kudou’s been good about keeping his breakdowns quiet and private so far, but all it would take is one slip.  Kuroba _-han’_ s jus’ as bad off, seems like.”

“You’ve really thought about this,” Eisuke said.

“I’m the one out of us who has the least of his own s*** goin’ on,” Hattori said.  “Nobody’s tryin’ ta kill me—well, at least not consistently.” He paused, thoughtful.  “I’ve _had_ people try to kill me before, but those have always been one-offs.”

Eisuke made a noise somewhere between choking and a laugh, and tried in vain to shove his hands over his mouth fast enough to stifle it.  Fortunately, Heiji didn’t seem to have noticed him at all.

“An’ I won’t say my family situation’s ideal but it ain’t bad, either,” he continued.

“Kudou’s parents are both alive though, aren’t they?” Eisuke asked.

“Fer now,” Hattori said darkly.  “Kudou’ll go off on me if I get into it without him at least listening, but they ain’t exactly the Parents of the Year, okay?”

Eisuke was not at all heartened by this news.   _What, exactly, convinces a homicide detective to make death threats in that tone?  I’m not even sure he was joking!_

“So yeah, Kudou’s got issues, and Kuroba _-han_ ’s clearly got issues, and you, no offense, also have issues,” Hattori said.

“None taken,” Eisuke said, as much because he was used to Hattori’s bluntness as because he knew Hattori had a point.  He was not sure what dealing with his circumstances in a healthy manner would look like, but he was pretty sure he hadn’t quite managed it.

“So I’m tryin’ ta make sure no one has a breakdown,” Hattori said.

_I’m not sure if I should be grateful or insulted,_ Eisuke thought.   _Best to go with nonplussed until I figure out a coherent response._

“Related to all of this…there’s a conversation I had with Kiyoshi _-san_ that I think might have been partly about Kuroba- _san_ …and if it was, I’m worried,” Eisuke said.

“Okay,” Hattori said.  “What kinda conversation?”

“She was telling me to be more honest about how I was actually feeling,” Eisuke said.  “She—well, Hakuba, really—mentioned a person she used to know that was never very honest about their feelings, and said that it really screwed them up.”

“Ya think it was him she was talking about?” Hattori asked.

“Yeah,” Eisuke said.

“Well, it sure fits the Kuroba- _han_ we know,” Hattori said.  “But it could also fit Hakuba, couldn’t it?”

“Huh?” Eisuke asked.

“Then again, I guess you never met him other than as Kiyoshi _-han_ ,” Hattori said, with a quirk of his eyebrow.  “He didn’t ever show much emotion, outside o’ smugness, curiosity, and maybe the occasional bit of frustration or disgust.  Rumors went ‘round that he wasn’t capable of anythin’ deeper, but most people would say he was an’ jus’ didn’t like showin’ it.”

“We knew he probably had some sort of issues, to want to run off like this,” Eisuke said slowly.  “Even if it really was just for external reasons, they would probably be traumatizing ones.”

“You know what my theory about ‘im is,” Hattori said, crossing his arms.  “If I’m even half right, he’ll definitely need therapy.”

“So, add Hakuba to the list of people who probably need counseling?” Eisuke ventured.

“Looks like it,” Hattori said, looking very tired.  

“Just…don’t take on too much for yourself, okay?” Eisuke said.  “I think it would be nice if you could help, but no one’s expecting you to fix anything.”

Hattori grinned back, expression slightly lopsided.  “Yeah, I know.  I’ll do my best to not mess myself up in the process of tryin’ to help everyone else out.”

“Good,” Eisuke said.  “Now, I’ve got to go if I want to feed Smiley and Q before school.”

“Um, _who_?” Hattori asked.

“The doves,” Eisuke said, feeling his cheeks heat.  “I named them.”

“ _Smiley?_ ” Hattori asked, clearly holding back a laugh.

“After George Smiley,” Eisuke said, affronted.  “From _Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy_.”

“That’s not what people are gonna assume,” Hattori said, chuckling.

“Hakuba named his hawk after a book character; I thought it was only appropriate,” Eisuke said, a bit sharply.

“So I guess Q is after the James Bond character and not after the one from Star Trek,” Hattori said.

“Yeah….except I don’t remember a Q in Star Trek,” Eisuke said, confused.

Hattori blinked.  “How much of it have you watched?” he asked, skeptical.

“I watched the entire Original Series, thank you,” Eisuke said.

“But nothing else,” Hattori said.

“No, not yet,” Eisuke said.  “Mom always liked The Original Series best.  I think she had a bit of a crush on Sulu.  Hidemi _-nee_ liked Spock best and they used to pretend to fight about it.”

Hattori snorted.  “Still, never even _saw_ The Next Generation, man.  We gotta figure out one of those video-streaming sites so I can convince you that naming your dove Q was a very _bad_ idea.”

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Kaito tracked Shinichi’s footsteps down the stairs of the apartment building, and waited for the slam of a door to announce the detective fully leaving hearing distance.  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Shinichi….

No, it was _exactly_ that, wasn’t it?

Well, not so much that he didn’t trust Shinichi.  If he trusted _anyone_ , anyone at all, Shinichi was arguably one of the nearest candidates.  Oddly enough, in the last few months, Eisuke had gotten just a bit closer to “trusted” than Kaito’s longtime rival, though Jii was still closest.  Not quite there, because the older man had been a vulnerability rather than a partner too many times for Kaito to rely on him fully again, but...he at least knew Jii wouldn’t tell his secrets. His mom...Kaito had _no_ idea where she fell anymore and Aoko had been complicated since the second he put on the monocle.

But the fact was that, as close as he came to it with some of them, he didn’t fully trust _any_ of them.  He could accuse Shinichi of being paranoid, and still be right, but he couldn’t do it without being a hypocrite, because he was exactly as wary in his own way.  He played with the critics and the police, he joked with Aoko and the others at school, but no one ever got close, because that was a _risk_.

He’d thought of that as a reasonable precaution, for the Kaitou KID.  If no one got close, no one could notice.  Not the similarities between him and KID, not the injuries, not the constant wearing of stress that Kaito was always worried was going to slip past the carefree attitude he put on at school and heists.  KID would remain some sort of myth made real who disappeared at sunup and Kaito a quirky magician’s kid and nothing more.  Safer for him, easier for everyone else, right?

He pulled his knees up to his chest, secure in the fact that they’d all taken turns checking and rechecking the apartment for bugs.  No one would see him like this.  It wasn’t quite as nice as curling up in the attic room where the doves lived--but getting back there would involve a dash across town with Poker Face wavering, and likely as not a game of “Dodge the Concerned Mom” too.  Kaito was content to stay here, for now.

Still, he needed...something.  Something besides _Tantei_ - _kun_ ’s words and his own insecurities bouncing around in his head.  He dug through his pockets and pulled out a battered box, cardboard cottony-soft with wear at the corners, then opened it and tipped out the cards inside.

He did a Braue cut, and a simple dovetail shuffle, then started flipping cards between his fingers, the motions all but automatic and incredibly calming in their familiarity.  

It seemed...it seemed like he’d miscalculated.  It was like all that distance he’d been putting between everyone else and himself was a particularly good hiding spot at a heist location.  He’d forgotten that even the best hiding spots involve a couple of blind spots.  Except this one seemed to involve some _really huge ones._

Somehow, creating distance between himself and everyone else actually, well, created distance.  But then, the problem was that he ended up alone.  And, okay, this wasn’t like kindergarten, he wasn’t going to start crying if he didn’t have the right number of friends.  But he knew what isolation did to people, psychologically, and it wasn’t good.  And he was starting to see it in his own behavior, just a little.

His perspective on himself?  Just a little bit skewed.  Looking back, there was _no way_ that Shinichi wouldn’t have reacted to someone trying to kill him.  Look how _he_ reacted to people trying to kill Shinichi!  Or Heiji, for that matter, and he barely _knew_ Heiji before this case.  

He cut the deck again, then tried a Zarrow shuffle--to an untrained eye, it would look the same as a dovetail, but the cards wouldn’t change order at all. Less productive, but a little trickier, and more distracting.

Because, the thing was, if Kaito admitted it to himself, he wasn’t _that_ surprised about the skewed perspective.  When you took on a job that involved getting shot at in order to find a legendary jewel, you were making a choice about whether your own safety or finding the jewel was more important.

Another Zarrow shuffle.

_I basically chose finding the jewel,_ he admitted.

Another Zarrow shuffle, a modest little half-meter card spring, and an overhand shuffle calculated to land the ace of diamonds at the top of the deck and keep emotion out of this thought process.

And so Kaito ended up with a that niggling little voice in the back of his head that said, _But I’m not as important_ , which he was starting to realize was maybe a thing he should be concerned about in a long term sort of way.  Which was to say, like Shinichi’s paranoia, Kaito’s lack of regard for his own happiness and safety was maybe not a thing that he could easily carry into a peaceful civilian life after all of this ended.

Okay, he didn’t even _know_ what to do with the thought of not being KID anymore, and wasn’t _that_ terrifying, since at the beginning he hadn’t even wanted the title.

He took a deep breath, did a good old fashioned Erdnase top palm to grab the ace of diamonds from the top of the deck, and melted a true dovetail shuffle into another Zarrow before putting the ace back in.

_One crisis at a time,_ he told himself sternly, and refocused on the matter at hand.

So, okay, he was really bad at trusting people.  But he also apparently didn’t really care that much about risking himself as long as it was in pursuit of Pandora or protecting the people he cared about, so maybe if he convinced himself to risk trusting the others because it was important for saving Hakuba…

_Okay, no, that’s_ way _too messed up,_ Kaito thought, physically shaking his head.

Scissors cut, overhand shuffle, and a marlo tilt to put the nine of hearts on top of the deck.

Then, he blinked.   _Oh, no, Hakuba!_

Because, if the inside of his head was like this, Hakuba’s was probably not that different.  Hakuba...Hakuba had spent months saving his past self’s life and not saying a word about who he was to anyone, _not even himself_ , which definitely said “trust issues” and pointed strongly in the direction of “thinking other people are more important” too.

So, good, he’d at least figured out some of Hakuba’s issues!

...Except that was not the point of this.  The point of this was to actually get himself to trust the detectives as backup.  And seriously, why couldn’t he?  It’s not like he hadn’t wished to have backup so many times he’d lost count.  And Hakuba, good intentions aside, didn’t count here--part of the deal with backup was _supposed_ to be knowing someone was on your side. And even if someone had been protecting Kaito every step of the way, he’d never known.

No matter what had actually been happening, to him, it was always just him standing alone against a bunch of people who wanted him dead or in jail, which amounted to the same thing.

The stakes were high.  They were _always_ high and everything was so delicate; how could Kaito possibly trust anyone else--

Except this _wasn’t_ just anyone else.  This was _Tantei_ - _kun_ who was good enough to nearly catch him multiple times, _Tantei-han_ who saw through Hakuba when no one else knew there was anything to see _through_ , and Spy _-san_ , who had a Poker Face and an eye for plots.  They were smart enough to keep up with him but they also had strengths that he didn’t, ones that could complement his.

And they were good people.  Shinichi could be brutal but it was always with a purpose, either to protect or to prevent further harm, Heiji was only cruel by accident, and Kaito had yet to see Eisuke’s dark side, though Kaito had seen a few hints that it existed if you pushed him far enough.  The four of them had a common goal, in finding Hakuba and in taking down the Black Organization.  He had more than adequate reason to trust them.

And yet...it was hard.

And it wasn’t just relying on them, though the thought of that alone very nearly made him fumble mid-shuffle.  Trusting them-- _really_ trusting them--would mean telling them things.  Explaining tricks.  Leaving himself as vulnerable as if he’d painted a bullseye on the cape.

He shuddered reflexively.  The ace of spades slipped out of his hand in the middle of a Sybil cut and he tried _really_ hard not to see it as an omen.

This wasn’t just something about Thurston’s Laws.  It was half the desire to always keep something hidden that he could spring to protect himself, and half..half, if he was honest, the desire to keep his father’s legacy his and his alone.  Jii was his father’s assistant, that was one thing.  But these three critics?  They didn’t _deserve_ to know--

He fumbled the next shuffle entirely, fingers suddenly clumsy.

But... _He_ was his father’s legacy, not just KID.  And that was what the others wanted to protect.  

No, that’s what they’d already _been_ protecting.  Shinichi said he’d _known_ who Kaito was, past tense--he hadn’t even said how long, just that he’d known.   _And he hadn’t done a thing about it_.  Even Shinichi agreeing to not poke at KID’s identity at the start of the case, and Heiji and Eisuke doing the same, well--they weren’t obligated to actually not do it.  As detectives, if they’d broken their word with a criminal, no one would have judged them, especially when said criminal was _really obviously_ not telling them things related to the case.  Kaito was _not_ proud of how well he’d been lying recently.  But they didn’t go back on their word, and when Kaito had shown up to that meeting injured, all three of the others had been worried, and all of them had helped when he’d needed first aid.  This recent display of worry...it really hadn’t been unprecedented at all.

His fingers found their rhythm again and he did a particularly fancy little Charlier cut and another Zarrow shuffle.

He still didn’t want to show them everything.  Or really anything.  But...one step at a time.  Just...trusting them enough to talk to them, and trying to work his way up to telling them enough that they could actually be effective backup someday...that might be enough for now.  It was more than Hakuba had ever managed, unless the misanthropy was just an act.

He ran his fingers along the edges of the cards as they slipped across his palms: Charlier cut, Hugard palm with the queen of hearts, Zarrow shuffle, lay the queen down, repeat.

But...Kaito pretended to be close to everyone while keeping distant.  Hakuba had just been distant, without even making a pretense.  If Kaito continued as he had been, would he eventually end up acting the same way?  Was that why it was so hard, now, for them to get Hakuba back--because he didn’t have any connections deep enough to pull him back to Tokyo?

The scary thing was, now that Kaito thought about it, he could do it too. He knew he could, because it was his backup plan if anyone ever found evidence that he was KID.  He would just run.  He had so much he cared about in Ekoda...but he could be content knowing that the people he loved were safe, even if he could never see them again--even if they came to hate him.

If he filled in “even if they didn’t know him as who he was,” that was basically Hakuba’s situation, wasn’t it?

He tried not to let that sting.  It didn’t quite work.

He tried a Tenkai palm with the king of diamonds, an overhand shuffle, then a false running cut.  Those worked, at least.

That wasn’t what Kaito wanted for himself.  And he did want things for himself, besides destroying Pandora.  It wasn’t good to focus that exclusively on just one goal and nothing else, he knew that; it wasn’t healthy.  Having connections with the detectives wouldn’t stop him from finding Pandora.  He might even be able to do it faster or more safely with them on his side.  And...having people he could really rely on, not just people he felt he needed to protect or ones he loved but had to lie to...that would be a good thing.

Kaito had never quite been sure what his father’s hopes for him as KID had been.  Sometimes he wondered if his dad had really wanted him to have to become KID at all.  But he was pretty sure that his dad hadn’t meant KID to isolate him to the point that the role had isolated Hakuba.  Kaito had always loved people, and his dad had _known_ that; he would have never meant for Kaito to end up alone.  

Deep breath.  Lay down the king of diamonds, stare at it for a few seconds, then pick it up do a quick overhand shuffle.

Shinichi said that his father knew KID; maybe it was okay for this KID to have a slightly larger circle of detectives.  And for him to _drag_ Hakuba out of isolation too, if he could manage it.  But one step at a time.  

Fixing his own trust issues was probably going to be hard enough; it might be a little ambitious to take responsibility for his future self’s as well.

One more deep breath, another quick dovetail shuffle, and he put the cards away.  That was enough for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blanket warning for discussion of unhealthy coping mechanisms. Specific things in the first section include characters discussing their friends’ mental health without them present, KID’s unhealthy risk-taking behavior, more allusions to the Kudou’s bad parenting and a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it hint at the Hattori parents’ issues, and a callback to the discussion of hiding emotions and the psychological outcomes thereof. In the second section, self worth issues everywhere, trust issues everywhere, paranoia, grieving, and a lot of self-deception.
> 
> The ace of spades is a card associated with death. It’s not foreshadowing; it’s an act of chance and Kaito psyching himself out.
> 
> For anyone not getting this from the text itself, I want to point out that Kaito has not, in fact, plumbed the depths of his issues. That would be unrealistic. When it comes to magic or the detectives, Kaito is the sharpest person around, but when it comes to his own mental state, consider him an unreliable narrator.
> 
> All of those card tricks are real; I found them through wikipedia and verified them on other sites. If you google them you can find directions for and videos of most.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so late and I am so tired.
> 
> A little bit of an announcement this week: the next update will be the week after next, instead of next week. I’ve pretty much exhausted my chapter backlog, and long experience has taught me that is a bad thing to have done, even when I didn’t just have a sudden change in schedule or when I haven’t been having health issues. So, I’m taking a week to get at least a chapter ahead of posting, preferably more, so that there aren’t any unplanned update-less weeks. This should also give me some time to polish the upcoming arc as much as I can. I hope you all will be patient with me.
> 
> That said, I still have a lot of scenes pre-written, and I have a full outline for this thing’s trajectory. The fate of the story is not in question; I just need time to connect and finish out some scenes and get a bit further ahead.
> 
> If you are a person who finds the warnings useful, this chapter is one in which they are particularly strong. They’re still at the end, though.

It was a clear, cloudless day, but even so, the air outside of Koizumi Akako’s house smelled slightly of copper and tingled against Kaito’s skin with the promise of lightning he _knew_ couldn’t be coming.  It gave Kaito a bad feeling.  But he _had_ to do this, so he continued up the old mansion’s front walk, Poker Face firmly in place as if it were a heist rather than a meeting with a classmate waiting for him at his destination.

The door swung open the moment his shoe touched the front step.  Akako stood in the doorway, dressed in something frilly, black, and strategically low-cut, her hair floating out around her in a way that couldn’t quite be explained by her movement or the breeze.

She stared at him for a few seconds, expression unreadable, then huffed out an annoyed sigh.  “This is about Hakuba _-san_ , isn’t it?” she asked.

Kaito nodded. “That spell that you told me about...can you do it again?” he asked hesitantly.  “Find him again?”

Akako pursed her lips.  “I will need something of yours to do it.”

Kaito hesitated. It wasn’t like he didn’t know anything about how this sort of thing worked.  He’d read fantasy _manga_ and novels, and he could guess at the mechanics of what Akako was doing.  Sure, she could find Hakuba with something of his—and she could probably also do a lot of other things, both to Hakuba and to Kaito.

But Hakuba’s _life_ was at stake here, and _he_ was far enough away to be relatively safe from Akako.  And Kaito could deal with whatever she decided to do when it happened, as long as he came back safe.  Sure, he still needed better self-preservation instincts, but...those could wait until everyone he cared about was home safe.  Besides, Shinichi and the others were overreacting about the danger to Kaito, anyway.

“Whatever you need,” he said, pulling a card out of the well-worn deck in his pocket and offering it to her.

Akako’s expression darkened, and Kaito would have _sworn_ he felt a prickle of electricity across his skin.  “Don’t be so _careless_ , you fool of a magician!” Akako spat, practically tearing the card out of Kaito’s hand.

Kaito blinked.

“I know you,” Akako continued, tone acidic.  “You were thinking things like ‘Hakuba is in trouble’ and ‘Whatever she does, I’ll deal with it’ and decided it was worth the risk to you to give me something. Something like _this!_ ” She gestured wildly with the card, practically shoving it into Kaito’s face.  “Even though I’ve tried to _kill_ you before.  I told you before, I intend to have your heart, and for that to happen, it needs to remain beating!”

“Koizumi _-san_?” Kaito asked, confused.

“You believe me not to be trustworthy,” Akako said.

Kaito started to voice a protest, but Akako held up a hand.

“Don’t argue,” she said. “It’s the truth.  I’ve been dangerous to you in the past and you don’t believe I won’t be again.  This isn’t a sign of trust.  It’s you deciding that your own safety is an acceptable risk in your search for Hakuba. And I can’t condone that.”

“And, another thing—witchcraft relies on the law of contagion; the idea that any contact between two entities forms a connection on the metaphysical plane that can be utilized in a spell,” Akako said, voice tight with frustration.  “So any item you had owned for any length of time would have done.  Something you’ve had a long time—your uniform jacket, perhaps, or your school bag, might have helped my precision.  But to give me a card from a deck that I can tell you’ve had at least five years, and have loved dearly, and used daily, for all that time—”

She broke off, then held up the card, expression stony, and flicked it with her thumb and forefinger.

Kaito felt it like a blow to the stomach, and bent over, gasping.

“ _Never_ give a witch you don’t trust anything you love,” Akako said.  “It’s the next most powerful emotion to hate, and you seem to hate rarely enough that I believe I can at least go without worrying about that.”

Kaito, still clutching his stomach, looked up to see her holding out the card.

“Take this back, give me your jacket, and come inside,” she said, just a bit coldly.  “Then, perhaps, we can discuss _why_ you are desperate enough to take such risks.”

Kaito hesitated—understandably, he thought.  She’d just done...something like what she’d done during the Red Tear Heist, when she’d injured him without even laying a finger on him.

Akako sighed. “I was just trying to remind you to be more careful,” she said, waving her hand as if to dismiss Kaito’s wariness.

Kaito just gave her a weary smile and pushed the faint ache in his stomach under Poker Face right along with all the other lingering muscle aches from the last heist.

“You silly magician,” Akako said, somehow managing to give the impression that she was looking down at him when she had no height advantage on him whatsoever.  “I’ll get you an icepack.”

She turned on her heel, gesturing for Kaito to follow.  He was too stunned to do otherwise.

Akako’s house was…weird.  Like a curio shop in a Western movie, filled with shiny elaborate golden objects that Kaito didn’t recognize—which was a feat, given who Kaito was and what he did.  The carpet was thick and red, the walls were papered with an elaborate vine pattern that Kaito could see magical symbols hidden in, and chandeliers hung with crystals and tipped with real, burning candles lit the rooms and created dancing patterns of light and shadow that changed with every passing moment.

It felt alive, and not particularly friendly.

Akako led him to a large room with a floor that was wood instead of carpet.  It wasn’t simple paneling, but instead an elaborate _yosegi_ mosaic, and it took Kaito a few seconds to recognize the image.

“Is this a map?” he asked, staring down at the varied shades of gold and brown that made it up and the accompanying brightly-colored monsters painted on each wall—images he now recognized as the beasts of the four directions, from Chinese myths.  It looked old enough to be in a museum—it had to have been moved from an older house; there was no way it was original to a Western-style mansion like this.

“One of my ancestors had occasion for a manhunt, once,” Akako said.  “Normally, I just use this as a dining room, because the floor is easy to clean, but this is for a good cause, so I cleared out all the furniture.”

“B-but, this has to be at least 200 years old—”

“Relax, I have a conservation expert visit every so often,” Akako said.  She giggled.  “Imagine, a thief so concerned about artifacts he isn’t even planning to steal!”  She fixed him with a slightly stern look.  “Well, at least, I hope you aren’t planning to steal it.”

Kaito held up his hands.  “Of course not! What would I even _do_ with it?”

Akako’s smile turned bemused.  “What indeed.  You are such a _strange_ thief.” She giggled again. “I’ll get you that icepack now.  Please stay here; I’m afraid the rest of the mansion can be a bit treacherous if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Kaito swallowed.  “I’ll stay right here, don’t worry.”

While he waited for Akako, Kaito looked around the room.  The map was old, but mostly accurate—more than Kaito would’ve expected given its apparent age.  It looked a lot like the one famous Tokugawa-era map that Kaito had seen in a few history books, but the details were different and the style of calligraphy used to label the countries made Kaito certain it was older. He suspected witchcraft.  But the map did still suffer from the common problems of old maps—the names of countries were different, or spelled differently, or entirely wrong because of changes in the intervening centuries.  Still, the positions of the landmasses were more or less right.  Also, whoever did all the writing had a really nice hand and Kaito needed to forge it someday, just for fun.

Was forging the handwriting of long-dead witches dangerous? He should probably find out in a way that wasn’t trying and hoping for the best; then again, most of what he did nowadays was pretty much ‘trying and hoping for the best’ and other than getting shot it hadn’t been going _so_ badly…

“Here you go,” Akako said, jarring him from his thoughts by presenting him with a large icepack with a cloth-like surface.  “I hope you at least know how to use this?”

Kaito sighed and pressed it against his stomach.  It did help—with the new ache, and the old ones, as well.  The one he had at home was not cloth-like or this big, and he kind of wanted to steal this one.  But stealing the witch’s icepack was _definitely_ a stupid idea.

Akako also had a small quartz crystal dangling from a chain.

“I’m ready to begin if you are,” she said.  “All you need to do is step out of the room and give me your jacket.”

Kaito nodded and moved back to the doorway, then shrugged off his uniform jacket and handed it to her.  Akako took it, moved to stand by the wall painted with the red phoenix, and very deliberately pressed the crystal against it.  For a split-second, there was a slight red glow around it and the crystal, and Akako’s hair rose up as if in the wind.  Then the glow faded, Akako’s hair fell flat, and Kaito’s vision was obscured by his uniform jacket being thrown at his face.

“Oops,” Akako said.

“You did that on purpose!” Kaito accused, pulling the jacket off of his head and putting it back on.  Grumpily, he sat down crosslegged, icepack still pressed to his stomach, and glared at Akako.

Akako shot him a remorseless grin and held out her right hand.  The crystal glowed red again and floated off of her palm, then dropped to about an inch above the floor.  From there, it floated along the surface in fits and starts.  Kaito was somehow reminded of a GPS icon on a phone, searching for a signal.

Finally, it came to a stop over a small, lopsided mass of golden-brown wood, and the red light it was giving off turned from a steady glow to a pulsating light.

Kaito stared at the map.  “That’s England,” he said softly.

“The pulsating means that the magic is fairly certain he’s on that specific landmass,” Akako said.  “It did the same thing for you being in Japan.”

“Wait, shouldn’t it be showing me in Japan, too?” Kaito asked, confused.

“That’s why you’re just outside the room,” Akako said.  “I asked the spell to look for the ‘you’ who wasn’t here.”

“So, how accurate is this?” Kaito asked, fascinated.

“This map is old, made using enchantments that modern witches have long forgotten and can’t quite match in power and precision, and dozens of my ancestors have used it,” Akako said, grinning like Kudou with a culprit in his sights.  “Its power is incredible.  The only thing it lacks is detail.  If it says he’s in England, _he’s in England_.”

“Okay,” Kaito said, feeling something like real hope about finding Hakuba for the first time since Omsk.  “Okay. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Akako said, walking across the room to lean down and scoop up the crystal. When she stood back up, she was looking Kaito in the eye.  “Bring him home, Kaitou KID.  You’ve stolen so many other things, surely one thief-turned-detective can’t be beyond your abilities.”

“I’m not stealing him,” Kaito said, torn between amusement and affront.  “He’s a person, and stealing those is called kidnapping, and I do _not_ do that. I’m _returning_ him.”

“But you didn’t even steal him in the first place,” Akako said.  “If anyone stole him, he stole himself.”

“But he’s me,” Kaito said, still grinning.

“You’re insufferable,” Akako said.  “Get out of my house.” But she was grinning right back.

Kaito thought about stealing the icepack one more time, but in the end, he decided to drop it and run, leaving KID’s laugh echoing behind him like an extra “thank-you.”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Heiji settled onto his futon, glancing at the bedroom door one more time to make sure it was closed as he started his call to Tokyo.  His dad had woken up a bit during Kudou’s unceremonious reveal of Kaito’s name and identity and Heiji’s reaction to it, and Heiji had needed to sit through a good half-hour lecture about it.  No need to do _that_ again.

“Hattori _,_ ” Shinichi said as the call connected.

“Hey,” Hattori replied.  “Kuroba _-han_ shown up yet?”

“No, and I’m worried too,” Shinichi said with a grimace.

Heiji heard the door on Kudou’s end of the line slam open.  “England,” Kaito announced, loud enough to be heard over the phone.

“So you talked to her,” Kudou said.  “Hattori is on the phone, but Hondou-san isn’t here yet.”

“Hi, _Tantei-han_!” Kaito said cheerily.  “And yes, I talked to her.  It was...weird, but I don’t think I was ever even in real danger.  She yelled at me to be more careful, even.”

Shinichi got that look on his face that meant he was thinking about the little _neechan_ , which, come to think, this girl sounded like...well, her around when she first showed up and was still more scary than helpful, at least.

“Guess he’s goin’ home,” Heiji said.

“We startled him, I think,” Kudou said.  “It wasn’t our plan that did it, but we did accidentally get a lot closer to him than he ever meant to let us get.  He knows England much better than we do; we’ll have a hard time tracking him down there, period.”

Heiji’s phone chimed.  “Hang on, Hondou _-han’s_ callin’ me,” he said, accepting the call.

“What did I miss?” Eisuke asked.

“Hakuba’s in England,” Heiji said.  “Call Kuroba _-san_ and Kudou _-san_ too; they’re the ones with all the information.”

Eisuke nodded.

“What do we do now?” Heiji asked.  “England’s not as big as, say, Russia or the U.S. were, but it ain’t tiny either.  We gotta narrow our search area beyond the entire freakin’ country.”

“I already told Eisuke this, but I don’t have contacts outside of Japan and the United States,” Kudou said. “The only people I know in England are tennis players and I don’t think they’ll be very useful in this situation.”

“Probably not,” Kaito agreed, grinning.  “Mom’s got a network.  But getting her involved, even this much, uh…” He was grimacing, his shoulders inching upward.  “Well, I mean, you guys don’t know as much about her, and she _is_ still a thief…”

Heiji felt his throat tighten, more and more, with every word, because he recognized that posture and that expression from the first time that Kudou had awkwardly tried to explain that asking his parents for help usually caused more problems than it solved.

 _Maybe it’s just the resemblance_ , he thought.   _Except I’ve never seen Kudou talk about his parents full-sized.  It’s just the body language that’s the same._

“Okay, sure, but yer face looks exactly like Kudou’s when we suggest gettin’ his parents involved an’ I wanna know why,” he said aloud.

“She just...sometimes... _does_ things,” Kaito said, expression caught between helpless and uncomfortable.  “I’m not sure why you’re comparing Kudou _-san’_ s parents to her; they’re law-abiding citizens and all…”

 _Still looks the same as Kudou does_ , Heiji thought, swearing a bit mentally.  And then, the humor of Kaito’s claim hit him.

“Law-abiding,” he repeated, incredulous.

“Most of the time, and when they aren’t, it’s usually for good causes,” Kudou said, holding up his hands with a slightly desperate expression on his face.  “Let’s not get into this now, Hattori.”

“It’s just that ‘she sometimes _does_ things’ is an awful familiar description and before she gets mixed up in our case, I’d like to know exactly how near ta your parents’ level of crazy we’re dealing with here,” Heiji said, frowning.

“Kudou _-san_?” Eisuke asked, confused.

 _Poor Hondou-_ han _has no idea what he’s gettin’ himself into,_ Heiji thought grimly.

“My parents are a little capricious, that’s all,” Kudou said, with a weak little grin.

“Capricious,” Heiji muttered darkly.

“Okay, it’s really...she probably won’t do anything since she feels bad about everything that’s happened so far with Hakuba…” Kaito trailed off.  “But if I were to give an example, she basically told me that the Ryoma Heist was necessary out of the blue, and she didn’t give me all the information I needed beforehand, either.”

“So she’s the exact same kind of crazy as Kudou’s parents, is what you’re saying,” Heiji said. _Great, jus’ great._

“Look, I wouldn’t go so far as _crazy—_ ” Kaito started.

 _Oh, no, I am not listenin’ ta him try ta explain this away._ “She ever done anything really terrible and called it a test?” Heiji asked.

Kaito went a little grey in the face.

“Yeah, I thought so,” Heiji said, feeling absolutely exhausted.  “At least tell me she didn’t take off when you were fourteen?”

“She started touring in Vegas off and on when I was ten, but she’d have me stay with the Nakamoris when she was away,” Kaito said, looking embarrassed, of all things.  “When I got older she’d just have Inspector Nakamori check in on me and ask him to invite me over for meals every so often.”

Hattori swore, because honestly, what else could he do.   _I knew Kudou attracted pieces o’ work but this is ridiculous._

“Where’d you get fourteen from?” Eisuke asked.

“That was how old _I_ was when Mom and Dad decided to travel the world,” Kudou said, in that matter-of-fact tone of his.  “I asked if I could stay in Japan with Ran instead, and they said I could.  So they had Professor Agasa check in on me and everything worked out.”

“Fourteen’s a little young to have your parents in another country,” Eisuke said, frowning.

“Yeah, people keep saying that,” Kudou said.  “But it’s also a little young to have to be in the same country as those two.  They’re a little too much to deal with, most of the time.”

“Yeah, Mom’s like that too,” Kaito said.  “I think she’s trying to be better lately.  Me getting shot scared her.”

“If only everyone’s parents reacted so well to near-death experiences,” Heiji muttered, not quite able or really willing to stop himself.

“Lay off, Hattori, it’s over and they didn’t mean...they were trying to _help_ ,” Kudou said, now looking uncomfortable.

“H*** of a way to try to help,” Heiji huffed.

“Hattori _-san_?” Eisuke ventured.

“Kudou _-san_ doesn’t like me telling people about it, because he _knows_ it wasn’t okay, even though he will insist until the end of time that it wasn’t that bad and they were just being annoying,” Hattori practically spat, because he had been pissed off about the fake kidnapping since Kudou told him about it.

“What was this, exactly?” Kaito asked, voice edged.

 _Seems like we woke up KID’s ‘protective-of-Tantei-_ kun’ _instincts_ , Heiji thought, with no little satisfaction.   _Good._

“Their reaction ta findin’ out that he’d been shrunk was ta stage a fake kidnapping ta see if he could still take care o’ himself like he is,” Heiji said darkly.  “An’ ta scare a little extra caution inta him, not that he needed it.  They pretended to be members of _Them_ and used _chloroform_ to knock ‘im out after he nearly escaped once.”

As usual, Kudou looked only faintly annoyed by the discussion of what Heiji knew had been a pretty traumatic experience at the time.  But Kudou’s parents hadn’t treated it like a big deal—heck, even Agasa had laughed with them at how freaked-out Kudou was—so Kudou had decided that he’d been overreacting when he got upset, and pretty much nothing Heiji could say could convince him otherwise.

“That almost makes what Mom pulled a few months back look tame,” Kaito said faintly, sounding a bit stunned.  “Real chloroform?  On a kid your size?”

“They were careful about how much they used,” Shinichi said flatly.

“Holy s***,” Kaito said.

“Okay, what did your mom pull a few months back, jus’ fer reference?” Heiji asked, dread welling in his stomach.

“You guys promised that you would pretend not to know things about my mom, remember,” Kaito said.  “And you said you wouldn’t arrest her.”

Heiji did _not_ like the direction in which this was going.  Eisuke looked about as worried as he felt.  Shinichi just looked curious, but to be fair, Kaito’s mom was getting compared to Shinichi’s parents, which meant from Shinichi’s perspective, whatever she did couldn’t have been _that_ bad.

Heiji _probably_ needed friends besides Kazuha who weren’t walking bundles of issues, but talking to people was hard and cases were more interesting.

“Yeah, we did,” Eisuke said carefully.  “…What does that have to do with this?”

“Look up Kaitou Corbeau,” Kaito said.  “Ah, ‘he’ was supposed to show up to one of my heists a few months ago, but Hakuba _-san_ intervened.”

One Google search later, Heiji was ready to jump on a train to Tokyo for the sole purpose of screaming at someone until he went hoarse.

“Okay, Kuroba- _kun_ , you know that this is not even in the same _neighborhood_ as okay, right?” he managed aloud.

“ _Oh my_ _God_ ,” Eisuke said in English, sounding a little nauseous.  “What the….what was the _point_ of that?”

“It was supposed to be a test,” Kaito said darkly.  “To make sure I could handle myself as KID.  Hakuba yelled at her for it.  I yelled at her about it too.  Um…actually, we haven’t really talked much since I yelled at her about it?”

“That took guts, Kuroba _-han_ ,” Heiji said.

“Yeah, it kinda did, I guess,” Kaito said weakly.  “But…I think she’s trying to be better now.  Because people have been yelling at her.  So I think we could tell her Hakuba’s in England, and ask her to see if she could figure out where, without things going really wrong.”

“I really _hate_ not having other viable options,” Kudou said, voice soft and acidic.

“So you won’t argue against it?” Kaito asked hopefully.

“I don’t want anything to do with this woman, but I don’t see any other options presenting themselves,” Kudou said.

“You said you wouldn’t arrest her,” Kaito said, a hint of steel to his tone.

“That I did,” Shinichi agreed coldly.  “I gave my word, and I _will_ keep it, but you can’t make me _like_ it.”

“I’m with him,” Hattori said firmly.

“She’s trying to do better,” Kaito said weakly.

“Then let’s see it,” Eisuke said sharply.  “Don’t tell her anything about us that she doesn’t need to know to find Hakuba.  I don’t know about anyone else, but I don’t trust her with the kind of things we’ve told you up to this point.  For Hidemi- _nee_ and Kudou _-san_ , especially, it could be dangerous.”

“Agreed,” Shinichi agreed.  “Besides, if you can get her to agree to that—to telling us everything when we’re telling her nothing—maybe, _maybe_ that would be a start.”

“But don’t tell her that, either,” Hattori said.

“Then what can I tell her?” Kaito asked.

“The one thing she won’t wanna hear,” Hattori said.  “We’ve got a deadline, now.  They’re gonna kill Hakuba if we don’t find ‘im fast, and ta pull that off, we need her help.  If that ain’t enough for her, the problem ain’t with us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for an appearance from Akako in the first half and with it, callbacks to the way her actions during the Red Tear heist were framed in terms of sexual consent in RiR. This appearance includes Akako shouting at and magically harming Kaito, albeit in a very minor fashion, without giving any warning beforehand. In the second half, warning for what basically amounts to a bunch of canon events framed as mistreatment and neglect of children by their parents. I made attempts to write this somewhat realistically, which means that the people involved are not always aware that what happened was bad or even willing to agree that it was.
> 
> First, let me say that I am not trying to demonize anyone’s favorite characters here or embellish canon. But if you’ve read this far, chances are that you are also of the opinion that Corbeau was a crappy thing to do. I’m just going the extra couple steps of saying explicitly that part of the reason it was crappy was because it was Kaito’s mom doing it; same with the whole fake kidnapping thing in DC--part of why it was so not okay is because it was Shinichi’s parents in collusion with his erstwhile guardian. While we don’t know how much Kaito was left alone by his mom when he was younger, we can surmise it was at least some; Shinichi living on his own since 14, on the other hand, is canon. And while teenagers living alone as a sort of “independence-test-run” is a done thing in Japan, it seems to be more for high schoolers. Which 14 is not.
> 
> The Kudous have moments of genuine helpfulness in canon but they’re balanced with moments of goading their kid for reactions at times when he really doesn’t need the extra stress. Chikage is better in the manga but in the anime she’s almost always either a distant presence or a disruptive one. I’m not saying this is the only way to read canon, by any means--I think Gosho intends both families to be healthy and ideal and while I disagree, everyone has a right to their opinion. I’m not going to make this a major point of the plot either--beyond the arc centered on Kaito and Chikage that’s already in progress. But this take on how these two families function has undoubtedly shaped how I’ve written Kaito and Shinichi so far, so I thought I ought to address it.
> 
> Regarding Akako’s map-room, it’s based on a map of the world from the Tokugawa period often called the [Kaiei 6 map](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:1853_Kaei_6_Japanese_Map_of_the_World_-_Geographicus_-_ChikyuBankokuHozu-nakajima-1853.jpg), created by Nakajima Suido. The style of mosaic used to create it, _yosegi_ , is really interesting and cool-looking; [you can see some here](http://en.rocketnews24.com/2014/10/26/yosegi-wood-craft-amazing-in-its-beautiful-simplicity-and-precision/).


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, everyone! Thanks for your patience with the hiatus! I didn’t get as much writing done as I wanted but I definitely figured out a lot of the details of the next arc and of Saguru’s timeline and story arc that I hadn’t had worked out yet. My beta and I also stayed up ‘til the small hours of the morning playing with a specific scene, but let’s not focus overmuch on that.
> 
> It should be noted, by the way, that [miladyRanger](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2514975/miladyRanger) is still the best and this story would not be without her.
> 
> There are some spoilers in this chapter--if you haven't seen the London Arc and you care, stop reading at "Which no one wants," and keep scrolling until you find "I don't think calling is going to be enough." It's not a big chunk of text, but I admit the spoilers are somewhat substantial. When I wrote this chapter, I forgot that the London Arc happened after Clash of Red and Black....Look, I was tired, and I watched them out of order. Also I really didn't like the London Arc and I let my complaining get the best of me. Just pretend this is an AU where it happened earlier, somehow? Or ignore it completely.
> 
> Anyhow, if anyone was waiting for a bit more plot, I have some for you here! Also, there’s some warnings for you all in the endnote.
> 
> _(1/13/18: ETA London Arc spoiler warnings)_

Kaito was looking a little healthier every day, and Chikage comforted herself with that.  They didn’t speak much, since the argument.  He went out of his way to avoid her, and Chikage was too cowardly to try her skill against his—she knew, really, that while she was still a better thief, he’d outpaced her in evasion months ago, so pursuing him wouldn’t really result in anything other than unpleasant confirmation and failure.

But he was gaining color and range of motion, even if he wore a worried expression nearly every time he walked into a room without checking to see if she occupied it first, and wasn’t eating nearly his share of the food in the house.  She supposed he could be eating elsewhere…but with the change in activity caused by that injury of his, he should have been gaining weight, not losing a bit, and the opposite was happening.

Her dear silly boy was literally worrying himself sick over Hakuba, and it was enough to break her heart.  As for her, she’d tried everything she could to chase down the other version of her son, but he was aggressively avoiding her entire network.  At best, they were getting week-old third-degree hearsay about his location, which was utterly _useless_.  It was maddening, and she was certain he was doing it on purpose.

So, one version of her son in the wind and avoiding her with special dedication, the other furious at her and worried sick over him.  Some parent she was.  Not that she didn’t always miss Toichi, but it was enough to make her want him back for advice instead of a teasing presence at her side.

She didn’t want to leave Kaito alone—and he wouldn’t be fully healed for months yet—but the time when she could no longer use his injury as an excuse to avoid giving him the time to himself he’d requested was getting nearer and nearer.  So Chikage sat at the kitchen table and contemplated ways to truncate a Las Vegas tour, because hopefully a few weeks would be enough time for Kaito to cool down.

And then her son walked into the room and _looked her in the eye_.

He looked weary, and hesitant, and desperate in a way that set her every nerve on edge.

“Kaito?” she asked, very quietly.

“Are you still looking for Hakuba?” he asked in reply.

She nodded.  He…uncoiled, just a bit, revealing a tension in his posture that she’d utterly missed.

“If I told you a way you might be able to track him down, would you tell me where he is, instead of going yourself?” he asked.

“Kaito, your shoulder—”

“It’s healed enough,” he said.  “And I won’t be alone.”

Chikage blinked.  “Jii didn’t tell me—”

“It isn’t Jii,” Kaito interrupted again.

“Then who?” Chikage asked.

Kaito’s lips thinned to a line.  “I made a deal, with some of the detectives…”

Chikage’s heart stuttered in her chest.  “Kaito!  You know how dangerous that was!”

“Yes, I knew exactly how dangerous it was, and it turns out, I was right!” Kaito replied, a hint of steel under his tone.  “We have a deal and they’ve honored it, but we keep falling short when it comes to actually catching Hakuba.”

“You could have at least told me,” Chikage said.

“I knew you’d argue,” Kaito said.  He hesitated, then added, “And I didn’t want you involved if it went south.  Anything I know about Hakuba from you came from ‘an accomplice.’”

“Kaito, you’re my child, it isn’t your job to protect me,” Chikage said.

“Lately, ‘No One Gets Hurt’ is harder and harder to put down when I take off the monocle,” Kaito said.  “I think it’s because I’ve seen what happens when I fail.”

“The Nightmare Heist wasn’t your fault,” Chikage said quietly.

“You’re not the first to say that,” Kaito said, glancing down.  “Maybe someday I’ll believe one of you.”

Chikage felt her stomach twist.  “I still don’t like the idea of feeding information from my network to detectives, even if you’re keeping an eye on them.”

“I wouldn’t be asking if it weren’t important,” Kaito said.

“I know,” Chikage said. “But even so…”

“They’re going to kill him,” Kaito burst out, voice strained.  “ _Tantei-kun_ has a network of his own—one of them’s one of Jackal’s people who apparently owes him and won’t kill him no matter what.  He risked asking her what they knew about Hakuba, and they’ve noticed him, and they’re hunting him, and if they find him—he’s _dead_.”

His eyes were pleading.  And Chikage did have her weaknesses.

“I’ll help,” she said, teeth gritted.  “But I want to _know_ about these detectives.  Particularly your reasons for bringing on that terror of an elementary schooler.  And how the h*** he earned a _life-debt_ from one of Jackal’s group at that age.”

“If I get to have secrets so do they,” Kaito said, frowning and tight-lipped.

“Kaito!” Chikage snapped.  “You can’t be blind enough not to have noticed him as a potential threat.”

“Oh, he’s a threat,” Kaito agreed.  “He’s gotten closer than anyone to catching me.”  He paused, raising an eyebrow.  “Mom, in this situation, that’s what we _want_ from someone who’s on our side.”

Chikage stared at him for a few seconds.

“If he has a chance at catching me, the same might be true of Hakuba,” Kaito said.  “But, seriously, if I tell you or anyone else any of his secrets, he’ll abandon the case and come on the next heist with twice as many gadgets and a _grudge_.”

Chikage frowned, crossing her arms loosely over her chest.  “I just don’t like the amount of risk this involves.”

“The detectives won’t arrest me,” Kaito said firmly.  “That’s all you need to know.  This is for their protection, too.  Every person who knows that they’ve been working against Jackal’s people puts them in more danger.”

“I won’t tell anyone what you tell me,” she said.   _You can trust me_ felt too much like inviting a repeat of their last argument.

“You don’t have to tell someone willingly or on purpose to do them harm,” Kaito replied softly.  “Mom, _please_.”

Sighing, Chikage said, “I just want to keep you safe.”

There was a pained underlay to the neutrality of Kaito’s answering Poker Face, and Chikage thought she could make out the outline of the reply he wasn’t saying out loud— _I just want to keep them safe_.

_When did I become a threat?_ was what she wanted to ask, but it was a question she already knew the answer to, wasn’t it?

So, she hadn’t meant badly, coming here as Corbeau.  She’d wanted to help.  She’d thought Kaito would see it as a test; she thought he’d handle it as easily as he’d handled everything else that being KID had sent his way so far.

She’d been a fool, believing his Poker Faces and his “I’m fines,” and questioning his _readiness_ instead of his mental state.

The moment she’d left that first note, she’d shown herself to be a potential threat.  Not only that, but she’d done some amount of harm, just with that note, and she’d possibly compounded that harm by continuing to send notes instead of backing down in response to Hakuba’s anger.  The best she could do for now might be damage control.  

Re-establishing real trust would take time, and a lot of it.  Though it was possible that even before her careless heist note, the two of them hadn’t shared anything like real trust—after all, she hadn’t even told him that Corbeau existed, and Kaito, in turn, obviously hadn’t confided in her very much at all.

No matter how little she wanted to, she would need to wait for Kaito to be ready.  If she pushed him, she would just end up hurting him again.

“I’ll accept it, but I don’t like it,” Chikage said.

“Funny, that’s just what the detectives said,” Kaito said, in a tone that really didn’t hold any humor at all.  He took a deep breath, eyes never leaving hers. “Hakuba’s in England, somewhere; he came in from the United States.  And he’s been actively causing _Them_ trouble since he left Japan.  Do you think knowing that much will be enough for your sources to find him?”

_You can’t let him down again_ , Chikage thought, and chose honesty when she spoke.

“I think so,” she said. “I _hope_ so.  But I don’t know, not for sure.  What you gave me will make it a lot easier.  But he’s KID, and what he said to me implies that he has more experience than you do, so…”

Kaito huffed out a laugh.  “He’s slipped us twice.  If you really _can’t_ find him, you won’t be the only one.  But...this might be our last shot.   _They’_ re getting serious, now.”

“Twice?” Chikage asked, stunned.  “How _long_ have you been working with the detectives, exactly?”

Kaito shook his head.  “Long enough to know we need all the help we can get.  Will you do it?”

“Yes,” Chikage said quietly.

She couldn’t fix this. Not any of it.  But if she could at least help...well, it wouldn’t make up for her role in creating the situation, but if she was part of someone else getting Saguru back, he’d still _be_ back, in the end.

Even if the people getting him back were her injured son and a bunch of detectives she didn’t trust within 50 feet of him.

It didn’t matter.  In the end, she was a phantom thief, and she was above all things resourceful.  If all she had to work with was the scraps of her son’s trust, a few stray pieces of information, and a network built for theft and surveillance, not missing persons investigations--she’d _make_ what she had enough.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“Okay, do we have everything this time?” Shinichi asked, with what he felt was admirable patience.

“Unless Genta _-kun_ eats all the sugar again,” Mitsuhiko said crossly.

Shinichi had assembled the Detective Boys in Professor Agasa’s kitchen to make adzuki dumplings.  It was a nice, safe, boring afterschool activity with no potential for encountering murders—but if they had to make a second convenience store run, Shinichi was willing to bet that someone’s corpse was going to turn up before they made it back to the house.

He glared at Genta, who had a handful of sugar halfway to his mouth.

“Genta _-kun_ , stop, you’ll get another stomachache and then you’ll have to miss school again!” Ayumi said, in genuine concern.

Genta immediately dropped the sugar back into the bag.  Shinichi winced and tried to remember if he’d seen Genta wash his hands.

_It doesn’t matter; we’re going to bake everything anyway,_ he told himself.   _The oven will kill the germs.  I hope._

“Okay, Mitsuhiko _-kun,_ you get out the measuring cups, Ayumi _-chan,_ you get out the eggs—” he started.

“Conan _-kun_ sure likes bossing people around, huh?” Mitsuhiko muttered.

“It makes him feel important,” Ai replied, looking Shinichi straight in the eye as she spoke.

Shinichi scowled—and then his phone went off.

_Mom found HS pls come to apt now will b there in 10 KK,_ read the text message, from an unknown number.

It took Shinichi a few seconds to realize that Kuroba, in his haste, had sent his update on the case from his personal phone.

_Well, it has been almost a week since we found out for certain that_ They _want Hakuba dead_ , Shinichi thought.   _There’s some urgency to all of this._

“Sorry, I gotta go,” Shinichi said.

“Is it about a case?” Mitsuhiko asked.

“Tell us, tell us!” Ayumi insisted.

“Sorry, guys,” Shinichi said.  “I just need to go talk to a friend.  I’ll see you later, okay?”

He hopped down from the kitchen stool and dashed out the door before any of them could ask another question, though he felt Ai’s glare burning into his back as he went.

He arrived at the apartment panting, and opened the door to the sight of a very disheveled Kuroba Kaito.  Not only was his hair even wilder than usual, but his shirt was visibly rumpled, his jeans were mud-splattered, and one of his socks was part of the way off of his foot.  

“Somehow, you’re the last one here,” Kaito said, a little wearily.

“Could be that my legs are shorter than yours,” Shinichi said, more sharply than he’d intended to.

“Eisuke didn’t have to run,” Kaito said gently, gesturing to the floor next to him.  “Sorry to disrupt everyone’s days.  But our timeline needs to move up.”

“Obviously,” Shinichi agreed.  “If we don’t move quickly, we’ll lose track of him again.”

Kaito shook his head in a jerky, almost reflexive-looking motion. “Not because of that.  Mom’s contact didn’t see Hakuba.  He found his blood on a murder suspect’s jacket.”

_“S***_ ,” Shinichi breathed.  Waited a beat, because he knew Kaito was more sensitive about these sorts of things, and besides, Hakuba was as much one of “his” detectives as Shinichi was.  “How _much_ blood?”

“Just a little,” Kaito said, a hint of relief to his tone.  “Not enough to be from anything near-fatal, so the person said.  But definitely enough that Hakuba didn’t just cut himself shaving or something.”

“And we know the vic wasn’t Hakuba,” Hattori said helpfully, as Kaito grimaced.  “There was an autopsy, and the contact was in the police station and able to check the genetics.  They were who they were supposed ta be, an’ not Hakuba.”

“Speaking of that...how do you have a sample of Hakuba’s genes to check against?” Eisuke asked.

Kaito raised an eyebrow.

“Thief, Hondou- _san_ ,” Shinichi reminded.

Eisuke sighed.  

“We need to move now,” Kaito insisted.  “He may not be seriously injured, but depending on what it was and how much blood he lost, it could slow him down enough that _They_ might actually be able to track him.”

“Which no one wants,” Shinichi agreed.  “But we have _really_ limited resources in London.  I know a famous tennis player, her Holmes-loving little brother and her coach-slash-boyfriend.  Not really enough to get us anywhere.”

“No police, really?” Hattori asked.

“My parents dealt with the police, that time; I was busy finding the bomb,” Shinichi said absently.

“So, the police don’t know you but they sure as heck _owe_ you,” Hattori said.

“But I kept my name out of it,” Shinichi corrected, with a not-quite-smile.  “Though I guess if I called as Shinichi I could at least leverage being Dad’s son, but…”

“I don’t think calling is going to be enough,” Eisuke said quietly.  “We did that before.  Not only will he be expecting it, but it also didn’t work.  And...this is the city he lived in, by himself, for a while, right?  He probably knows it inside out.”

“Even if we were expecting the cops-as-proxies thing to work, in this case, they might not be good enough proxies,” Kaito said slowly.

“Are ya suggestin’ we go?” Hattori asked.  “Because...that’s a heck of a thing for us ta suddenly do.”

“I don’t know how I’d even get there,” Eisuke said.  “But at least one of us should, I think.  We can’t respond quickly enough, otherwise.”

“We’ll be down travel time,” Hattori said.  “But we won’t be stumblin’ over red tape left an’ right.”

“Who would we choose, though?” Shinichi said.  “And...this could get dangerous.  Sending one person over with no backup seems like a terrible idea.”

“My dad ain’t gonna buy me tickets ta London, and ya know I don’t have that much saved up,” Hattori said.

“No, no, I think I have a solution,” Shinichi said, thinking back over what was still in his house and what had been packed away and moved to the Professor’s for safekeeping.  He looked up at Kaito.  “Do you think your Mom would be willing to buy you a ticket?”

Kaito nodded.  “I’m pretty sure I could talk her around to it.  Especially if it was for _this_.  She’s worried about Hakuba too, she just knows that if she was the one who came looking for him, he’d just yell at her and keep running.”

“Seriously?” Eisuke asked.

“He really was not impressed, uh, with that thing I told you about, that she did,” Kaito said, shifting a bit in discomfort.

“Can’t imagine why,” Hattori said, deadpan.

“What I need you to do is go ask her to do that, now,” Shinichi said.  “Get one for tonight, so Hattori has time to get here from Osaka.  I’ll buy the two of us tickets for the same flight as you, and Hondou _-san_ one for a flight with similar arrival times.”

“With what money?” Hattori asked, confused.

Shinichi frowned.  “That’s the risky part.  My parents left one of their credit cards in the house before the last time they left; it’s in a box in the Professor’s basement right now.  I know their PIN, and, if I use it, we probably have about three days before one or the other of them notices a large amount of money is gone and starts investigating.  And then meddling, most likely.  But...we don’t have a lot of time to find Hakuba anyway, if Kuroba _-san_ ’s right.”

“Kudou _-san_ , I don’t want—” Eisuke started.

“You have good ideas, and you’ve been a lot of help on this investigation,” Shinichi said.  “I want you along, and I know it would be troublesome for you to pay to come along yourself.”

Eisuke nodded.

“I take it if you just asked for the money, your parents would cause trouble from the start?” Kaito asked.

“They might not,” Shinichi said.  “They’ve helped me hide people from _Them_ before.  But...since we’re kind of working against Hakuba at the same time that we’re working to protect him, it’s a little more complicated than the last few times I’ve gotten them involved.  And both my parents have a tendency to try _improv_ at the worst moments.  After all the other risks we’ve taken for this lead, I don’t want to get them involved and then have something one of them does send the situation out of control.”

“Especially not when Hakuba’s in immediate danger, right?” Eisuke asked.

Shinichi nodded.

“I can’t miss that much school,” Eisuke said.  “As it is, I’ll have to make up an excuse for why I’m gone this time.”

“Leave that to me,” Kaito said.  “I can impersonate a distant relative having an emergency for you to as many people as you need.”  He glanced at Shinichi. “Same goes for you, if you don’t want to do it yourself.”

Shinichi grinned a little, feeling like a weight was off his shoulders.  “Yeah, that would be nice, actually.”

“Come to think, my dad won’t want me gone very long, either,” Hattori said.  “Ya think we could get round-trip tickets or somethin’?”

“You think it would make him more likely to agree?” Kaito asked.

“I think I’m gonna sneak outta the house, get a train to Tokyo, and text Otaki- _han_ to tell him what I’m doin’ before the flight leaves,” Hattori said, grin crooked.  “But Dad’s less likely to lose his s*** when I come back if we’re gone less than a week.”

“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” Kaito said.  “Aoko’s gonna murder me with a broom if I’m gone too long without explaining.”

Heiji quirked an eyebrow.

Kaito shrugged.  “It’s her way.”

“That gives us a solid deadline,” Shinichi said seriously. “Will you guys be okay with that?”

“We already have one anyway,” Kaito said quietly.  “Once we get to the city, it’s only a matter of time before Hakuba notices we’re there too, and _leaves_.  We’ve only got one shot, no matter how we approach this.”

“Three days in London, plus two for travel back and forth,” Shinichi said. “Could you all manage that?”

“Yeah,” Kaito said, without hesitating.  

“Dad ain’t gonna be happy, but I think I can swing it,” Heiji said.

Eisuke swallowed.  “I think, for this...I think I could.”

“So, it’s settled,” Shinichi said, feeling the finality of it, and the adrenaline-driven focus of knowing he had a task before him he _needed_ to get right.

“I’ll head for the train, then,” Hattori said.  “See ya soon.”

“See _all_ of you soon,” Kaito said quietly.  “It’ll be nice to meet you in person, Eisuke.”

Eisuke lit up a little. “It’ll be nice to meet you, too!”

Well, at least something unambiguously positive would come of all of this.  Now they just needed to make sure that they found Hakuba, this time—because between the brittle note to Kaito’s voice, even now, and the churning in Shinichi’s own stomach, he didn’t like the thought of what might happen if they didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Kaito’s crappy self-care practices, depiction and discussion of dysfunctional families, a lot of discussion of a person (Saguru) who the speakers assume is a minor being in danger, including danger of the ‘mortal peril’ variety. Also, remember, kids: stealing is illegal, even when you’re a homicide detective working a missing persons case and trying to keep the truth about what you’re doing away from your dangerously meddlesome parents. 
> 
> That said, Shinichi ability to take these actions is pretty realistic—I know a number of people who grew up knowing their parents’ credit card PINs for reasons of convenience. Often they were responsible kids, and their parents were busy.
> 
> A few people have asked about Chikage getting some kind of redemption arc; her actions this chapter are what qualify as progress for her in terms of becoming a better parent to Kaito. She’s a smart, stubborn woman, and admitting that she made a fairly large mistake is no mean feat for her. 
> 
> A reminder to you all—I do exist on Tumblr, as [ninthfeather](http://ninthfeather.tumblr.com/), and I put up chapter previews, art, and other stuff there. You can also ask me anything that isn’t a direct spoiler on or off anon and I will answer it.
> 
> Reviews are always appreciated!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, this is a horrifically late update. So, just to warn you, this may not end up being as unusual as I want it to be. I am still having health stuff and it’s slowing up the writing (and everything else) a little bit. I hope to stay on schedule but it might not be possible.
> 
> That said, I have a vision for this arc of the story. Namely, a completely gen London arc. That’s not to say, of course, that there won’t be feelings, but none of them are going to spiral outward from a questionable tennis pun. 
> 
> Warnings in the end-note, as usual!

Hattori got off the train, still feeling a little disoriented.  Somehow, an ordinary day of school had turned into _this_.  It was necessary, he knew it was necessary, doing things like this, but—ugh, it all felt too rushed and crazy.

It was after dark now, in Tokyo, and he was already stiff from a six-hour train trip.  Now, it was time to take a dozen-hour trip across the world.  His back ached just at the _thought._

The platform was unbearably loud—nothing like the train, if there was one thing Heiji liked about bullet trains it was how _quiet_ they were, even if Kazuha glared at him every time he yawned like he was gonna start talking.  But the platform was loud, and crowded, so much so that every few seconds found someone brushing past Heiji, touch just light enough to be uncomfortable. The third person who actually bumped into Heiji nearly sent his cap flying, and he started remembering why he didn’t _like_ this part of travel.

And then someone shouted, “Hey, _Tantei-han!_ ”

Heiji blinked, and saw Kaito standing _on a bench_ on the other side of the crowd, waving with one arm while he used the other to hold a scowling Kudou.

“Geddown!” Heiji shouted, pushing through the crowd.  “Ya tryin’ ta make a scene?”

“I was trying to find you, but the station was too crowded for less showy methods,” Kaito said, unrepentant, as he stepped off the bench.  “I think there’s a sports game.”

“It’s soccer,” Kudou said.  “FC Tokyo has a game, now _put me down_.”  He kicked his legs in the air, still frowning.

Heiji was a little impressed that Kudou was actually being careful enough of Kaito’s injuries not to kick him, under the circumstances.

“Think ya oughta put him down,” he advised.

“Ah, fine,” Kaito sighed.  “It’s just that it’s faster if I carry him.”

Kudou _glowered_. “Can I at least ride on someone’s shoulders or something?”

Heiji choked on a laugh.  “One of us was jus’ on a train for more than 6 hours, and the other got shot in the shoulder ‘round two months ago.   _You_ pick.”

Kudou sighed.  “Okay, fine.  But I hate this entire situation, just for the record.”

“At least you get to be tall for the plane ride,” Kaito offered.

“Really?” Heiji asked.

“Yeah,” Kudou said, a little subdued.  “I stopped by the Professor’s for the antidote after I packed.  Shinichi’s got a passport, but Conan doesn’t.  So getting through security could get interesting if I’m like this.”

“Ya haven’t taken it yet, though,” Heiji observed.

“I’m saving it for England,” Kudou said.  “Ai says this version’s time limit might be harder to predict than usual, so I have to be careful.  It should _definitely_ last the plane ride and Customs, unless we get delayed, but I’m not guaranteed anything after that.”

Heiji frowned.  “She better know what she’s doin’.”

“She wouldn’t be giving it to me to take where she couldn’t supervise if she didn’t think it was safe,” Shinichi said. “Now, let’s get going.”

“You have a taxi?” Heiji asked.  

“Nah, the Professor’s waiting outside the station,” Kudou said.  “He didn’t think I could take a taxi this late at night safely, and he’s probably right.”

Kaito shrugged, jostling Kudou and earning himself a scowl.  “You and I may be adults, but we look close enough to kids for someone with bad intentions to get the wrong idea.”  His grin was wry.  “It’s not that I don’t think we could deal with it, it’s that I don’t think we want to be in a situation to  do so in the first place.  You know?”

Heiji nodded.  “Makes sense.  Any ideas on how to get through the crowd?”

“Unless you want me to change clothing, you’re just going to have to deal with pushing through,” Kaito said, beckoning for Heiji to follow.

Somehow, they managed to push through to the exit without incident.  Sure enough, when they made it to the street, the professor’s little yellow Beetle was there, gleaming beneath a streetlight.

“Hey, Professor!” Heiji greeted, as Kaito set Kudou down on the sidewalk.

The professor leaned out of the car with a yawn.  “It’s good to see you, Hattori _-kun._ Now, get in, all of you—Ai- _chan_ won’t be pleased if I’m late getting home.”

“You’re letting her set a bedtime for you now?” Kudou asked, incredulous, as he climbed into the car, claiming the middle seat.  “Which one of you is the adult again?”

Agasa just laughed nervously.

“Hey, pop the trunk quick, I gotta load my suitcase,” Heiji said.

“Need help?” Kaito offered.

Heiji gave him an unamused look.  “You and yer shoulder injury can help by gettin’ in the car already.”

Kaito winced.  “It doesn’t even hurt most of the time anymore?”

“I’ve been shot before, too, remember?” Heiji said.  “And I didn’t even manage to reopen it.  If ya still aren’t havin’ aches I’ll eat Conan’s shoes.”

Kaito frowned, but complied.  After Heiji put away his trunk, he joined the other two in the car.

“I take it the other suitcases belong ta you two,” he said, as Agasa started the car.

“Yeah,” Kaito said.  “We’re all packed.  We even mailed the stuff we didn’t think would go through customs to the hotel—Mom’s paying for the hotel.  Or, well, not paying.  Apparently Mom knows someone who knows someone at the Premier Inn in Bankside.  If anyone asks, this is our graduation trip and Conan’s _my_ cousin.”

“That’s pretty impressive,” Heiji said.  “We sure this is a favor and not blackmail?”

“Yeah,” Kaito said.  “The graduation trip story is mostly because one of the friends is, admittedly, the type to panic if they knew there was a detective within 50 miles of them…”

“Which does make it more likely that they’re actually your mother’s friend,” Kudou said, with an air of defeat.

“Speaking of that sort of thing, I’ve already impersonated Conan’s mother over the phone and told Ran that Agasa was taking him to meet ‘me’ for a trip,” Kaito said.  “Eisuke’s school got a call from a great-aunt whose late husband wrote him into his will.”

“Seriously?” Heiji asked.

“Stole it from a late-night movie I watched after a heist a few months back,” Kaito said, grin crooked.  “So, unless I miss my guess, you’re the last one to make your excuses.”

“So, wait, what couldn’t ya take on the plane?” Heiji asked, grasping for a change of topic. _I’m gonna tell someone I’m leaving the country...as soon as I’m too close to leavin’ for anyone ta stop me..._

“Most of the gadgets,” Kudou said, frustrated.  “I’ve still got the watch, at least—they’ll _expect_ that to be metal—”

“And I’ve got a plastic version of the glider, just in case,” Kaito said.  “If you think I’m going on a plane with this guy _without_ it, well…”

Heiji swallowed, remembering a frantic, dead-of-night phone call from Kudou about poisoned airline pilots and a runway made of police cars.

“Could ya maybe not bring up that li’l adventure o’ yours right before the first time I ride a plane?” he asked, throat tight.

“First time, really?” Kaito asked. “You do at least _have_ a passport, right?  Because I really don’t have time to—”

“If you’re planning to do anything illegal I’m _sure_ you wouldn’t be discussing it in my car,” Professor Agasa broke in, tone nervous.

“Oh, no, of course not,” Kaito said quickly.

“Don’t tick him off,” Kudou said lowly.  “He’s exploded so many things by accident, just think of what he could do if anyone ever made him angry enough to do it on purpose.”

“I’d rather not,” Kaito said, voice all but dripping false smoothness.

“I do have a passport,” Heiji said.  “And I’m sure you can’t have luck like that _twice.”_

An abrupt silence followed his statement.

“ _Please_ tell me you’re still wearing your _omamori_ ,” Kudou said, a slight edge to his voice.

“Yep,” Heiji said, finally exhaling as he fumbled for the little cloth packet tucked under his shirt.

“I’d still feel better if we could stop at a shrine after that one,” Kaito muttered.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Shinichi was screaming like he was dying.  Shinichi was probably screaming _exactly_ like he was dying; it had probably sounded like this the first time, too, when it was the poison, and not the antidote, and Kaito needed to be off of this train of thought _now_.

But the screaming.  It was tearing his throat raw, Kaito could _hear_ the damage being done to his voice as it happened, but he didn’t stop, because this wasn’t voluntary anymore.  He was just in too much pain to stop himself from screaming, even if he wanted to—not that he was likely even aware of what his body was doing _besides_ hurting, anymore. _F***_.

Kaito really did not want to be thinking about this, but there wasn’t much else to think about at the moment, with Shinichi’s screams echoing around a tiny airport bathroom, with only him and Heiji to hear them.  The rest of the bathroom’s occupants had fled when the screaming started, at least.  

It seemed stupid, to Kaito, to cut things this close. They had roughly 15 minutes to get to the plane, after this, even if they had already checked their baggage.  But Shinichi _had_ said that this batch of the antidote had a variable time limit, and that there was some risk of him turning back into Conan in England’s customs if he took it too late.  So there they were, Heiji and Kaito standing guard outside of an airport bathroom and trying to ignore what was happening inside.

_Some guards we are_ , Kaito thought, suppressing a jerk as Shinichi’s screams broke off into a horrible, pained-sounding gasp, then resumed.  He swore to himself, trying to remember how many times he’d heard about Shinichi showing up in the past year.  It was definitely more than two or three.  Did this happen every time?  D*** it, would he even be able to walk to the plane, after this?

Next to him, Heiji stood stock-still, eyes fixed on the mirror across from him, but clearly taking in nothing.  Kaito could’ve quick-changed into a disguise of that childhood friend of his in front of him and he probably wouldn’t have flinched.  As it was, the mirrors were slowly fogging up, the air around them getting just a bit heavier with moisture, and Heiji clearly hadn’t noticed.

Kaito wondered if he should be concerned.  This would be the _worst_ time for those two to stumble on a murder, which really made it twice as likely.  He couldn’t think of lethal applications for a trick that involved fogging mirrors—but then again, he was neither a murderer nor a homicide detective.

There was a knock on the bathroom door, and then a man entered—mid-fifties, dressed in a security guard’s uniform with calluses and posture to match, so Kaito didn’t have to worry about him being a plant at least.  

The man winced at Shinichi’s screaming, then asked, “We’re getting complaints.  You got any idea what’s goin’ on in here?”

Heiji didn’t seem to even notice him, so Kaito stepped up to the plate.

“He’s having a panic attack,” he lied.

Not only was Shinichi not having a panic attack, he didn’t even _sound_ like he was.  Kaito hadn’t had one himself ( _yet_ , said a pessimistic bit of his brain) but he’d read about them enough while researching phobias.  They involved intense fear and shortness of breath, the latter of which generally did not allow for screaming at Shinichi’s current volume and length.  But there were times when Japan’s longstanding record of abysmal public mental health education efforts came in handy, and this was one of them.  If the guard had any idea what a panic attack even _was_ , he’d likely only learned about them from TV dramas.

As expected, the guard looked a little confused, then asked, “Will he, ah, need a doctor?”

Kaito shook his head, just as Shinichi’s screams started tapering off.  “No, it sounds like it’s almost over.”

“Good,” the guard said, before all but fleeing.

The screaming stopped, there was a dull “thud,” and then Shinichi’s heavy, labored breathing echoed in the empty restroom for a few moments.  Kaito turned toward the door just in time to see Shinichi come out of the stall.

His skin was ashen and shiny with sweat, his hair soaked with it.  His eyes were barely focused, and he was just a bit hesitant in his movements, like he hadn’t quite reacclimated to his adult body.

But it was his adult body—exactly Kaito’s height, though it was an inch or so shorter when it was stooped with exhaustion like it was now.

“Sorry about that,” he said, voice breathy, with a slight rasp to it.  There was that damage from the screaming.  “I really wish there had been an easier way to do it.”

Heiji, finally seeming to come back to himself, managed, “The f*** are _you_ apologizing for, Kudou?”

“...You shouldn’t have had to listen,” Shinichi said, studiously avoiding Heiji’s eyes even as the other detective took him by the arm, squinting as if to look him over for injuries.

“Heiji, I’m fine now,” Shinichi protested, trying to shrug him off.

Kaito summoned up KID’s vocal range.  “You’ll understand if we find that a bit hard to believe at the moment, no matter what you say.”

Shinichi slumped a little more.  “If we don’t hurry, we’ll miss the plane,” he said, tone flat, as he turned toward the exit.

“If that’s how ya wanna be,” Heiji rejoined, following him.

Once both of the detectives had their backs turned, Kaito allowed himself one nice, thorough, full-body shudder before joining them.  If he never heard anyone else scream like that, it would be too d*** soon.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Eisuke was certain he’d seen Heathrow in a movie at least once, because this place looked _familiar._ It was bigger in person, though, it had to be, because it was also huge.  Was it bigger than the airport Eisuke had arrived in the US at?  He didn’t know—he _thought_ so, but he was so stressed from that trip he’d barely had time to take in the airport.  He wasn’t even sure he remembered which one it had been.

This airport, he didn’t have a choice.  He was going to be walking for a while anyway, so he pretty much _had_ to look at the architecture.  It was pretty, in a daunting sort of way, given the sheer _scale._

It wasn’t as crowded as Eisuke was expecting, though--there were people around, but it wasn’t anywhere approaching congested, which was _odd_.  He’d read reviews about this place, and it was supposedly always a mob scene.  Then he caught sight of a clock. At 4:30 a.m., they weren’t exactly going to be getting the tourist crowds.

_That’ll make finding the others easier_ , he thought, relieved, as he glanced around.

Really, the whole trip had been unexpectedly easy.  His apartment was pretty clean--his mother had cleaned professionally, and though she certainly hadn’t had time to do for their rooms what she did for the rest of the mansion, she’d shown Eisuke a lot of things.  Really, spending a lot of his formative years trailing along behind your mother while she did someone else’s chores meant that a lot of household tasks were sort of second nature, by now.  So his things had been organized and easy to pack.

He’d expected finding a place for the doves to be a problem, but the same boy in his class who’d helped him find a store to get more food from when his initial supply ran low turned out to have an aunt who was a veterinarian. It turned out that a lot of veterinarians did something called “boarding” where they kept birds for a few days and nights in exchange for a fee; when Eisuke explained his financial situation the aunt had even been willing to take part of the payment after he got back from England.  And she’d volunteered someone from her practice to come pick up the birds so that Eisuke could make the plane.

So, at least he didn’t have that to worry about.  Finding the others was a whole different matter.   _Kaito’s text said they were by a bench…_

And there they were.   It was strange to think about, but Eisuke had never strictly seen any of these people in person before. He’d met _Conan_ , but never _Shinichi_ , and he’d only ever talked to Heiji and Kaito over the phone, for all that he felt like he knew them better than most of his current classmates.

Kaito was...really, exactly as he’d expected.  He was more-or-less perched atop a collection of suitcases too large to be just his own, with a subtle balance to his posture that suggested he was ready to move at a moment’s notice if circumstances required it. His hair was even more flyaway than usual, in a way that said he’d slept on the plane and forgotten to so much as pat it down afterward.  His normal smile was still firmly in place, even though his eyelids kept drooping and there was a certain care to the way he held his injured shoulder.

Shinichi, on the other hand, was an interesting contrast with Conan.  Visually, he was a perfect match for that photo Ran had shown him all those months ago.  Still, Eisuke might have expected some sort of sign of relief or happiness in the detective’s posture, now that he was at his proper size, but that clearly not the case.  Or...maybe it was, but in the oddest possible way.  Shinchi was standing, back to the wall, behind Kaito and his pile of suitcases, a blue-and-white baseball cap almost pulled low enough over his face to hide the suspicious glare he was directing at the crowd milling around them.  His shoulders were hunched, his arms were crossed over his chest, and he couldn’t have been more obviously uncomfortable.  Which was maybe the point.  As Conan...he’d need an explanation for that kind of discomfort.  As Shinichi—well, he was in more danger, as someone who _They_ needed to think _They’d_ killed, but he also didn’t need to pretend that his paranoia was sulking.  Maybe showing his actual emotions was as close to relief as Eisuke was going to see from Shinichi, at least in public and after a long flight.

_At least he’s doing better at that than Kaito,_ he thought with a sigh, glancing at the grinning magician, who Eisuke _knew_ was worried out of his mind.

Heiji was _really_ tall.  Somehow, seeing him over the phone, seated, hadn’t given Eisuke a proper sense of scale, because he was at least 8 centimeters taller than Shinichi.   _Not_ counting the hat.  Heiji looked exhausted, his eyes underlined in dark circles, but he was moving around regardless, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and tapping his hand against his thigh.  He kept glancing around the airport restlessly, clearly looking for something, and only stopped when his eyes met Eisuke’s.

“Hey!”

Eisuke waved and made a beeline for them, only nearly tripping over someone headed in a different direction twice.  

Heiji, meanwhile, was glaring at Shiniichi.  “Ya never told me how short he was,” he huffed.

Shinichi raised an eyebrow.  “Think about it, Hattori.  He wasn’t exactly short-looking from my perspective, at the time.”

“Ah, yeah, right,” Hattori said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

Eisuke was used enough to Heiji by now not to be offended.  “How was your flight?”

“No one died,” Shinichi said, almost brightly.

“The pilot was conscious the entire time,” Kaito reported, in a tone that suggested this was newsworthy rather than expected.

“No one warned me that yer ears poppin’ felt like _that,_ plus I got ta be seatmates with the Paranoia Twins,” Heiji said, rubbing his ear and scowling.  “They slept in shifts and kept lookin’ at the other passengers an’ _mutterin’_.”

“Look, given our history with planes--” Kaito started.

“Hondou- _kun_ don’t need to hear about that,” Heiji interrupted.  “That’s right, I told _you_ to shut up.”

Kaito stood, and rocked on his toes for a second before bouncing off of the pile of suitcases and all but skipping up to Eisuke.  “He might hate us a little now,” he whispered merrily, cupping a hand over his mouth and using a sort of exaggerated stage-whisper.

It was so very much like something that Kiyoshi would do that Eisuke couldn’t help a pang of nostalgia.   _Especially_ the way he moved.  Actually, that was weirdly similar.

As Heiji’s expression darkened and he aimed a mock-punch at Kaito, who promptly dodged it with an effortless-looking little leap, Eisuke kept noticing similarities.

One more thing that was weird about Hakuba, then.  Seriously, who based an adult female disguise on their teenage male classmate?

He made a mental note to tell the others once they’d calmed down a bit.  Which...might take a while.

“Am I the only one who slept well on the plane?” he asked aloud.

None of the others even had to answer aloud.  They just looked at him, as though he was insane, and it was enough.

Eisuke sighed.  “At least tell me you haven’t been waiting here long?”

“It hasn’t been long at all!” Kaito chirped.

Heiji looked ready to protest; Shinichi glared.  Heiji glared _back_.

“Let’s just...get to the hotel,” Eisuke said weakly.

Really, had he been expecting this to go smoothly?  Because if so, that had been _extremely_ foolish of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a pretty deliberately unpleasant outsider POV description of Conan turning into Shinichi, also some frank and kind of dismissive discussion of Kaito and Shinichi’s paranoia issues (which, while insensitive of Heiji, is also in-character and a little understandable after a 14-or-so-hour flight). 
> 
> Heiji, in the scene where Shinichi transforms, is getting very close to having some sort of overload-type reaction to the loudness and awfulness of what’s happening, and knows it (even if he wouldn’t think of calling it “overload”), so he seems zoned out to Kaito because he’s trying very hard not to focus on his actual surroundings. After some discussion, my beta and I determined he was probably going through kendo kata in his head. 
> 
> I really treasure reviews. Especially now that the plot’s starting to move again, and I’m starting to poke at things that are closer to canon (Shinichi transforming, people going to London…) I’d love to know what you guys think!


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this update is late as heck. In my time zone, at least, it’s not even Tuesday anymore. But this was honestly the best I could do.
> 
> On that note...I’m afraid I’m gonna have to take another hiatus. Not as short as the last one, either. It’ll be two or three weeks before I post another chapter, and you’re gonna have to watch my tumblr (the [riddle in reverse](http://ninthfeather.tumblr.com/tagged/riddle-in-reverse) tag, specifically; click the link to see the latest information) for updates, if you aren’t already following and you want to know exactly when the next chapter’s coming. I’m sorry, but at the same time...if I try to write this arc chapter by chapter, it will suck. And with RL the way it is, that’s how things will be if I keep updating weekly with no breaks. It’s also getting to the point where the fic’s become a minor source of stress, which is not great. So, please enjoy the chapter; the next will be up in a few weeks. 
> 
> This chapter is full of my headcanons about how good everyone is at English; none of it’s necessarily canon and some of it was done specifically for the purpose of plot. Also because the author is a linguistics geek.
> 
> This fic is not Britpicked, but I did at least try to make the British characters not say obviously American things. If you need a mental reference point for Julie Cassidy’s accent/manner of speech, please look up the British sitcom _As Time Goes By_ ; her accent is the same as the one the three female recurring characters have. 
> 
> I reserve the right to add further notes later when I’m awake. Warnings in the end note, as always!

They stopped at the hotel to drop off their bags and try to sleep off some of the jet lag--a lost cause, Shinichi knew, from experience, but it _was_ a nice thought--and then got up around when most businesses would be opening to pursue their only real lead.  That bit of blood spatter, after all, had been found and processed by a specific forensic investigator, and they could be interviewed. Moreover, they would certainly know more about the crime it was involved in than Kaito’s mother had bothered to find out.  There were a lot of details that could actually be useful in finding Hakuba, once they had them.  So, the police station was their first stop, much to Kaito’s chagrin.

Kaito had his phone with him--apparently, his mother wanted to be in contact badly enough to pay for international calling.  Shinichi suspected guilt was among her motivations, but he decided not to question it too deeply.  At least it meant one of them was able to call the person they intended to speak with ahead of time.

So, not that long before normal business hours started, the four of them headed out of the hotel. On their way out, Kaito practically bounced past some of the brochure racks, selecting ones about various attractions seemingly at random.

“Don’t tell me you want to steal the London Eye,” Eisuke groaned.

“Not at all,” Kaito replied, grinning widely.  “I’m just trying to keep up our cover.  Graduation trip, right?”

“Could you _not_?” Shinichi snapped, as they walked down the street toward the nearest Tube station.

“What?” Kaito asked, and...oh, that actually looked like real confusion.  Granted, it was hard to tell with Kaito, but it looked like he hadn’t actually been doing it on purpose.

“Sorry, nothing,” Shinichi said, embarrassed.

“No, really, what?” Kaito said.  “I try to only annoy people deliberately.  If I do it by accident it detracts from the fun.”

Hattori made a soft moaning sound.  Eisuke patted him on the back.

“Could you not make such a big deal out of the graduation trip thing?” Shinichi asked, feeling very silly.  

“O-kay,” Kaito said, slowly, tone almost patronizing.

Hattori scowled at him.  “Hey, if Kudou doesn’t like lying to the people at the hotel--”

“I lie all the time; if I can lie to Ran why should I care if you lie to a bunch of strangers?” Shinichi interrupted.  “It’s just...you realize I’m not going to graduate anytime soon, right?”

“Oh,” Hattori said.  “Whoops.  Sorry, Kudou.”

Kaito looked a bit stricken.  “I didn’t think about that.”

“It’s _not_ a big deal,” Shinichi said brusquely.

“I think...maybe it kind of is?” Eisuke offered.

Shinichi glared at him, and, to his surprise, Eisuke glared right back.  “Maybe now’s not the time for this conversation, but sometime, we’re _going_ to have it.”

And with that, he brushed past both Shinichi and Kaito, then asked, “This is the right direction, right?” as he pointed down a side-street.

It occurred to Shinichi, then, that he’d made the near-fatal mistake of almost forgetting that Eisuke Hondou was kind of terrifying.  After all, if Kir’s reflexes hadn’t been as good as they had been…

He _really_ had to stop underestimating people.

The Tube was incredibly crowded and unpleasant--Hattori hated the crowds, and Shinichi wasn’t sure if he or Kaito was less fond of the fact that they were hemmed in by a group of people they didn’t recognize, with no room to maneuver if the situation turned ugly.  Eisuke seemed fine, at least.

They made it to the police station, somehow, and Hattori calmed slightly the moment they passed over the threshold.  Kaito, on the other hand, went on high alert.  A police officer’s kid in his natural habitat and a thief surrounded by natural enemies--it only made sense, Shinichi supposed.

“We are looking..um..Julie Cassidy,” Kaito said, or at least tried to say, in English, to the officer at the desk.

To the poor man, it probably sounded more like a scrambled batch of vaguely linked phonemes.  

“The _h***_ was that?” Hattori demanded, in Japanese.  “It sure wasn’t English!”

“Hattori _-san_ , be nice,” Eisuke said.  “But, Kaito, you should have asked someone else to do the talking if you knew your accent needed that much work.  Also, you forgot the preposition.”

“Prepositions are like _après_ and _avant_ , right?” Kaito asked.  “That’s right, English has those too, dangit, _for_ , that’s the one I was supposed to use.  I...don’t speak English a lot.  We mostly read it in class, and it’s not like I ever get to practice speaking it _outside_ of class…”

“ _Après_ and _avant_...you speak French?” Shinichi asked.

“Of course; that’s where Mom and Dad met,” Kaito said.  “Mom’s family lives there, at least some of them do.  So sometimes we videochat in French.”

“But your English is horrific,” Hattori said.

“I’d like to see you do better,” Kaito huffed.

Hattori smirked and approached the desk.  “Please excuse my friend,” he said, in remarkably clear English.  “The Tokyo school system does not have a very good English curriculum.  Schools in Osaka are better.  He was asking if we could meet with Officer Julie Cassidy.  She should expect us.”

“The schools in Osaka _are_ better,” Eisuke breathed.

Kaito stared, then looked over at Shinichi.  “Did _you_ know he could do that?”

Shinichi smirked.  “He’s better than me, too.  I forget articles all the time, and you’ve heard my accent.”

“ _Articles_?” Kaito asked.  “Okay, those I don’t even _remember_.”

“A, an, the,” Eisuke said in English.  Then, in Japanese, “My old enemies.”

“I hate English,” Kaito said passionately.

Eisuke’s grin had an edge.  “At least you don’t have to speak it all the time.”

“I’m buying you chocolate when we get lunch,” Kaito said.  “A _lot_ of it.”

“Um…”

“Don’t try to argue with me, I’ve decided,” Kaito said, with a nod of determination.

“Hey, you guys are being rude!” Hattori said.  “Wow, is this what it’s like ta be everyone else? It’s weird.”  He switched to English.  “Officer Cassidy wants to take us back to the forensics lab.”

Shinichi glanced over at him, and winced.  Officer Cassidy was apparently a small woman with lacquer-brown corkscrew curls and skin near Hattori’s tone, currently occupied with glaring murder at the three of them and being even more dwarfed by Hattori than Eisuke.

“Sorry, Officer,” Shinichi said quickly.  He turned to glare at Kaito.  “We’re _coming_.”

“What?” Kaito asked, attempting English again.  “I did...something?”

“Your mother warned me you hadn’t practiced English much together but this is ridiculous,” Cassidy said, shaking her head.  “Come on, the sooner we do this the sooner my poker debt is clear.”

“Your what?” the desk clerk asked loudly.

“Never you mind,” Cassidy chirped, taking off down the hall.

“She’s Mom’s friend all right,” Kaito muttered in Japanese.

Eisuke shushed him.

The forensics lab was bright with fluorescent light, and surprisingly quiet.

“I’m the first in this shift,” Cassidy said.  “The night shift just left, of course, but there’s a little bit of a lull right now, at least this time of the week.  So, we get a bit of privacy.”  She grinned, smile fanged, then shoved a finger straight into Kaito’s chest.  “Which means _you_ can explain what on _Earth_ is going on here.”

Kaito blinked, then glanced at Eisuke.

“Did you catch _any_ of that?” Eisuke asked in Japanese, a bit despairing.

“Um, a few words?” Kaito answered in the same language

Eisuke paraphrased, and Kaito’s expression sharpened.

“Never you mind,” he said, carefully mimicking Cassidy’s earlier statement.

“What are you even looking for?” Cassidy asked.  “I mean, you’re _here_ \--”

There was something odd about that emphasis, but Shinichi couldn’t put a finger on it.

“Hakuba Saguru,” Hattori said, seeming just as confused.  “He’s a detective.  He’s our age.  He used to live in England.”

“That’s _not_ whose blood sample your mother sent me,” Cassidy said, sounding confused.

Kaito flashed her KID’s smile.  “Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s _not_ ,” Cassidy said.  “You’re not making sense!”

Kaito frowned, and turned to Eisuke, then spoke in Japanese.  “I don’t know how to say the quote about ‘six impossible things before breakfast,’ in English,” he said.

Eisuke blinked.  “Um, I don’t know that one,” he whispered back.  He turned to Cassidy.  “He’s saying something about six things that aren’t before breakfast? And it’s a quote?”

“‘Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast,’” Heiji quoted.  “It’s from, um...not _Fushigi no Kuni no Arisu_ , the other one, with the mirror…”

“Oh!” Cassidy said.  “ _Through the Looking-Glass_.” She narrowed her eyes at Kaito.  “So, you want me to just believe you, is that it?”

Kaito shrugged, his smile only faltering for half a second before he grinned even more widely.

Cassidy frowned and crossed her arms.

Kaito kept grinning.

“I don’t think he’s going to break first,” Eisuke said.

Cassidy huffed in frustration.  “So let’s say that I _did_ find Hakuba Saguru’s blood.  Which is _not_ what happened, and your _friend_ knows it.  What do you need to know, beyond that?”

“Where you found it,” Hattori said.

“Anything you found out about him from your, what’s the phrase...forensic analysis,” Eisuke added.  “You would have had to look into the spatter for the official case, right?”

“Yes,” Cassidy said.  “Where did you learn English?  Your accent’s very odd.”

Eisuke and Heiji blinked at once, but Heiji was the first to actually speak.

_“He_ ’s got an accent?” he demanded.

“Yes, you both sound like Japanese people who’ve learned to speak American English, but he’s got a….ah, I used to know the word for this, when the vowels are long….it’s not important,” Cassidy waved a hand in dismissal.  “He sounds odder.”

Eisuke shrugged.  “I haven’t even been in Virginia a whole year, there’s no _way_ …”

“Okay, no, I can hear it now,” Kaito said.  “When you say, uh, Virginia.”

“Seriously?” Heiji asked, tone strangled and high-pitched to the point of a whine. “He has an accent?  And I don’t?”

Eisuke giggled.  “Would you have been like this if I’d lived in Osaka with Dad while he was in Japan?”  He stumbled a little over “was,” but held up pretty well through the sentence, considering.

Shinichi paused to swallow some leftover guilt as Heiji blinked.

He recovered in a few seconds, though, and his answering smile was crooked, and deliberately gentle.  “No! Then it would have been...uh...we would have been the Osaka Team. Much better than Tokyo.”  He all but sneered at Shinichi and Kaito.

Shinichi smirked back, confident that Kaito was doing the same.

Kaito sighed. “Case. Deadline.”  He glanced at Cassidy.  “Please?”  

His English had gotten a _lot_ clearer.  Except...he could hear the pitch and cadence jumping around.  He wasn’t actually pronouncing the words himself; he was mimicking the way he’d heard the phonemes pronounced by the others.  Kaito had realized the weakness only a few minutes ago, and already he was trying to maneuver around it. As expected of the Kaitou KID.

Cassidy raised an eyebrow.  “If it’s really that urgent…”

“He is in danger,” Kaito said.

“Is he?” Cassidy asked, eyes never leaving Kaito.

“Six impossible things,” Kaito said, in a perfect impression of Heiji, down to the pronunciation.

Cassidy sighed.  “Okay, so here’s what I know.  Whatever happened to injure...whoever this blood came from happened _after_ the murder. The forensics people on scene could tell, because the blood was less dried than it should have been, if it was before.  Also, someone saw someone other than the suspect with blood on them near where we made the arrest.”

“So they aren’t arrested?” Shinichi asked.

Cassidy shook her head. “They threw the coat while we had police in pursuit.  Probably trying to slow the chasers down.  It was enough to prove they were the murderer, at least.”

“If you have a copy of the eyewitness statement, we would like to have it,” Heiji said.

“You mean, from them seeing him?” Cassidy said.  “It wasn’t a very detailed description.  What good will it do you?”

Heiji looked at Shinichi, who looked at KID, who looked at Eisuke.

“Why are you looking at me?” Eisuke asked.

“You’re the one who believed he was a woman for a few weeks!” Kaito hissed, in Japanese.  “Just tell her that!”

“You’re the one who believed he was a law-abiding teenage detective whose only interest in KID was _catching_ you,” Eisuke countered, in the same language.  “And that lasted _more than a year_.”

“You’re being rude, and also trying not to tell me something else,” Cassidy said.  “Tell me now, or I don’t tell you the interesting parts of the forensics.”

“We don’t know what he looks like at the moment,” Eisuke said.  “You said you know Chikage _-san,_ right?”

Cassidy nodded.

“Her husband was his teacher for disguises,” Eisuke said.

Cassidy winced.  Clearly she did at least have _some_ idea who Chikage had been married to.

Kaito just looked at him expectantly.  Eisuke wilted.

“He convinced me he was a woman for a few weeks,” Eisuke said.

Cassidy blinked, then stared at Kaito.  “What kind of game are you _running_?”

Kaito just shook his head, grimacing.

“I don’t know what he’s not telling you, but he’s not going to tell you unless you corner him,” Heiji said.  “And you haven’t yet.”

Cassidy sighed, then pulled a manilla folder out of a drawer beneath the desk. She spread out the photos within on top of it, then pointed to the one nearest Shinichi, depicting a tan coat’s sleeve, streaked reddish-brown.

“This is a picture of the coat at normal magnification,” she said.  “Look at it.  The blood is in small, smeared patches and streaks. He was bleeding, but it wasn’t a lot.  And the pattern doesn’t indicate spatter.”

“It looks like something else with blood pressed against it,” Heiji said slowly.

Cassidy nodded.  “We tested it in the lab; the stains aren’t deep.  The blood didn’t soak in more than a millimeter, most places, though it did soak in a bit.  Our best guess is that he and the murderer fought--why, we don’t know.”

“He might have seen the crime scene,” Eisuke suggested.

“Then the criminal would have been unconscious and left for the police,” Shinichi said, thoughtful.  “What do you know about the murderer?”

“We already solved the case,” Cassidy said, tone warning.

Hattori blinked. “You think he was after him for another reason?”

Shinichi nodded.  “We know why he’s here, don’t we?”

Heiji stiffened, glanced at Cassidy, and said, “Isn’t she in danger, then?”

“What?” Cassidy said.

“They probably aren’t...alcohol,” Shinichi said carefully.  “They might not even know what they are involved with.  She will be fine if she does not _ask_.”

Cassidy crossed her arms.  “That means you don’t want to hear about the glass fragments, do you?”

“Glass?” Kaito asked.

“Look here,” Cassidy said, gesturing toward one of the images.   “This was _also_ found on the suspect’s clothes. Specifically, the sleeves.”

“Same place as the blood,” Heiji said.

She nodded.  “That’s right.  There are tiny bits of glass all over the sleeves of the jacket.  They’re all flat, so it’s likely that they’re from a window or a glass door...something that might have broken during a struggle.  What you four would be interested in is that there’s almost no glass on the victim.  None of their wounds came from being cut by glass, either.”

“So the glass wasn’t from struggling with the victim,” Hattori said slowly.

Cassidy nodded.  “It’s our best guess at where the blood came from.”

“Not your only one,” Eisuke said flatly.  “What’s the other?”

“The murder weapon was a gun,” Cassidy said.

Eisuke frowned.

“It was the glass,” Kaito said, something dark under his smile.  “His...hurt. Not the gun.  Glass.”

Cassidy just stared at him.

“He knows...to not be where the bullet is,” Kaito said.  “Very good with that.”

“Are you sure?” Heiji asked.

Kaito nodded.

Shinichi sighed.  “No explanation?”

“Can’t,” Kaito said.  “Privacy.”

Heiji groaned audibly.

Eisuke turned to Cassidy.  “If we could have a copy of that eyewitness statement, and any other case files you can let us have...that would help.”

Cassidy nodded. “I don’t know what you mean to do, but good luck doing it.”

Eisuke grinned. “Thank you, officer.”

“And Kaito?” Cassidy said sharply.

Kaito looked up.

“Tell your mother she owes me an explanation, a clear poker debt, and a round of drinks,” the woman said clearly.  “In _that_ order.”

Kaito’s grin turned strained, even as Heiji muttered, “Wouldn’t mind the first and last myself,” in Japanese.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for canon-typical discussions of blood and forensics, as well as Shinichi’s terrible coping mechanisms.
> 
> The quote is indeed from Lewis Carroll’s _Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There_. _Fushigi no Kuni no Arisu_ is the Japanese title of _Alice in Wonderland_.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fic is now off hiatus. That said, given both the fact that my chapter backlog has run out and that real life has gotten realer in the colloquial sense than I’d like, I’m adjusting the update schedule. New chapters are now coming every other week instead of every week. I’m sorry, and I really hope not to be disappointing anyone too badly.
> 
> Also, I’m updating the AO3 tags to better reflect coming chapters. For a number of reasons,I’m not tagging in comprehensive detail, but I like to think that the kind of umbrella tags I’m using--”mental health issues,” “dysfunctional families,” ect.--are enough to warn people who might need to use the warnings in the end notes. If you think I’ve missed an important tag, please tell me--though I stand by my statement that deaths in the other timeline don’t count as “Major Character Death” since the characters in question are alive in this timeline and in some cases present for the reveal.
> 
> Not many warnings for this chapter, but they’re in the end-notes anyhow!

Chikage startled when the phone rang.  With no venues she was scheduled to perform in, and now no careless-of-his-own-health teenager to worry over, Japan was pretty boring.  And waiting by the phone for word from London?  Even worse.

“The  _ h***  _ is going on?” her old poker buddy, Julie Cassidy, demanded, irate.

“In what sense?” Chikage replied carefully.

“Chikage, the blood I told you I found matched the sample from  _ Kaito  _ that you gave me,” Julie said.  “You said that someone would be in to ask me about it and then hung up.  You could have warned me that you were sending  _ Kaito himself _ .”

“I could have,” Chikage allowed.

“And that he apparently is trying to convince everyone he’s with that the blood belongs to a missing kid named Saguru Hakuba,” Julie added.  “Who, by the way, is apparently a local boy, according to Homicide, and I would really like to have warning before you ask me to be an accomplice to that level of interfering with investigations.”  She paused.  “Specifically so I can tell you  _ no. _ ”

“You aren’t interfering, though,” Chikage said, wincing.  “That really was his blood.  Kaito was in Japan when the crime you mentioned happened; I can produce witnesses if you want them.”

“So, what, Saguru and Kaito have the same DNA?” Julie asked.

“Yes,” Chikage said.  “I mean, that is the logical conclusion.”

“I talked to the guys in Homicide,” Julie said.  “Saguru is half-Japanese, half-English, blond and brown eyes.  You’ve never really been clear about your ancestry, but I know most of it’s Japanese and none of it’s English; Kaito’s hair is black and his eyes are blue.”

“And?” Chikage asked lightly.

“And only identical twins have identical DNA,” Julie said.  “Which those two are not, obviously.”

“I only have one kid,” Chikage said, amused.  “I did not secretly adopt out Kaito’s twin brother to the police.”

“Then you’re making an impossible claim!” Julie shouted, sending a rush of static over the line.

“It’s the truth,” Chikage said.  “So it’s clearly possible somehow.”

“And you know exactly how, and you aren’t going to tell me,” Julie said, tone acid.

“That’s right!” Chikage sing-songed.

“What if we played a few rounds of poker for it?” Julie asked, clearly grasping at straws.  “I win, you tell me what the bleeding h*** is going on?”

“That wouldn’t really be winning, trust me,” Chikage said. “You know how I ask for things, sometimes, and then tell you to forget about them?  This is one of those things.”

“Okay, but...are you certain about all of this?” Julie asked.  “Kaito’s English is horrendous, and the rest of those kids...they seem competent in an investigation, but I’m not sure they’re all right wandering London by themselves.”

“Promise me names and descriptions of the kids and I’ll give you a hint,” Chikage said.

“What happened to this being too dangerous?” Julie asked, skeptical.

“It is  _ way _ too dangerous, but so is what Kaito’s doing,” Chikage said.  “Did you see how pale he was?  He got injured a little while ago, and now he’s associating with detectives, and he won’t let me  _ help _ .”

“Associating with detectives, oh the horror,” Julie said, deadpan.

“Am I getting information, or not?” 

“I don’t have names,” Julie said.  “But one of them looked almost exactly like Kaito, except he had slicked-down hair and a cowlick.  Another was like six foot and mostly muscle, with green eyes, sort of mid-tone skin, and short hair with long bangs.  The third one was actually near normal height, with short hair and glasses--I think his eyes were blue too.”

Chikage cursed.  “I don’t know the last one, but the other two are trouble.  I mean, one’s a friend of the family, technically, but also--trouble.”

“So, where’s my hint?”

Chikage just hummed a few bars of the song she used as background music for the start of the second half of her Vegas show.

“Do You Believe in Magic?”  _ was  _ a hint, whether Julie caught it or not.  Though judging by that scream of frustration, she hadn’t quite appreciated the delivery.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Heiji brushed off the fast-food restaurant's table again before he set down the file.  “Everyone got all the food they ordered?” he asked.

It was nice to be using Japanese again.  He was okay in English--he’d gotten a lot of practice translating for English-speaking witnesses and suspects after his father decided that was a good way to keep him from running off and solving cases himself.  Not that it had worked, though.  The man would have needed to have Heiji translating in his  _ sleep _ to keep him from doing detective work entirely.

Heizou wouldn’t have gone that far, though.  Heiji was almost sure of it.  Except...he had to admit that after he came back from this, he would probably be  _ pretty _ grounded.

But for now, all he had to worry about was making sure he knew where his three friends--and he was beginning to think he  _ could _ include even Kaito in that grouping--were, and that they were all eating enough that they wouldn’t pass out halfway through the investigation.

“I think they forgot my fries,” Kudou said, peering into his bag with a troubled expression.

“Should ya  even be havin’ those?” Heiji asked.  “They’re, like, bad fer your heart an’ stuff, right?”  

He tried to grin, and not to think about Kudou screaming in the bathroom before the flight, or the poisoning case when the two of them first met, when Kudou had been pale and sweating, clutching his chest intermittently as he worked through deductions.

Kudou rolled his eyes.  “They taste good,” he said.  “And I paid for them.  Also, you’re not Haibara, not that she’s a doctor either.  Wait for me; I’ll be right back.”

“Start without him,” Eisuke said, tone flat.  

“What do you mean, bad for his heart?” Kaito asked.

“I’m not gonna say anythin’,” Heiji managed.

Eisuke put his head down in his hands.  “You’re  _ actually _ Hagrid, how has Ran not found you two out?”

Heiji blinked at him, confused.   _ Where did that come from? _

“Never mind,” Eisuke sighed.  “Seriously, though, can I at least look at the eyewitness report while Kudou _ -san _ is hassling the cashier?”

Heiji shrugged.  “Go fer it,” he said, handing Eisuke the papers.

“Yeah, there really isn’t a lot of detail,” Eisuke said.  “They think it was a guy, and the hair’s described as ‘dark,’ but no more detail.  Uh...that’s weird.”

“What is?” Kudou asked, sitting down, with a satisfied smile on his face and a package of fries in his hands.

“Something gold, hanging from his pocket...they said it was a pocketwatch,” Eisuke said. “They can’t even remember what he was  _ wearing _ , but they remember that?”

“It was weird, of course it would stick out,” Heiji said.

“It’s weirder that he was  _ wearing  _ the pocketwatch,” Kudou pointed out.  “ That thing was practically his signature as Hakuba.”

“You guys never mentioned a pocketwatch,” Eisuke said slowly. “Kiyoshi had one.  She’d get it out sometimes, when we were talking, and check the time, at the weirdest moments.”

“Sounds like Hakuba,” Kaito muttered.

“Sounds more like a comfort object than a disguise prop,” Heiji said.

“Kiyoshi called it an heirloom,” Eisuke said.  “You think that was even part of the truth?”

“Could be,” Kaito allowed. 

Heiji picked through the case file while Eisuke worked on the eyewitness report and Shinichi and Kaito started eating.  

“The murderer’s name’s Jerry Hansen, and he’s organized crime,” Heiji said aloud.  “This arrest record...it looks like one of the  _ yakuza _ guys from back home, who can’t settle down inside the organization, so they keep gettin’ passed around.”

“You know he’s bad when even the criminals are playing hot potato with him,” Shinichi said, smirking.

Kaito’s expression was a little more sober.  “What if Hansen _ -san _ finally got passed  _ outside _ of the gang?”

“So you really think he’s with  _ Them? _ ” Heiji asked.

Kudou was nodding.  “It’s very possible. Even if he’s not actually  _ Theirs _ , I still think there’s a good possibility that he’s being used by someone else who is.”

“Do we need ta find him ta find Hakuba?” Heiji asked.  “Because trackin’ him down probably won’t take  _ us _ that long, but it’s still time.”

“I don’t think we need him, but if we get a good lead, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to follow it,” Kudou said.  “Knowing what Saguru is planning here could be one of the fastest ways to figure out where he is.”

“In the meantime, though, we should visit the crime scene,” Eisuke said, handing the case file back to Heiji.  “It’ll tell us at least some of what talking to Hansen would.”

Heiji nodded as he accepted the file.  “Plus, I thought about it, and...however he’s gettin’ money, even if it’s illegal, that’s gonna leave a trail, right?”

“Yeah,” Kudou said. “Even pickpocketing does, because people report it, and anything larger-scale would leave more traces.”

“And most legal ways of getting money involve paperwork nowadays,” Eisuke said.  “What are you getting at?”

“He’s smart enough ta know that, under the circumstances, that’s the  _ last _ thing he wants ta do,” Heiji said.  “So, he’s probably pinchin’ pennies left an’ right.  Includin’, if we’re lucky, stayin’ off the subways and buses as much as possible.”

Shinichi’s eyes narrowed.  “That makes sense.  So, we might be able to narrow the search radius.”

“He’s probably still gathering information,” Heiji said.  “This place is about as big as Tokyo.  If  _ They _ ’ve got the same presence, all he’s got to do is turn over the right rock, especially if he picked a bad neighborhood to base himself out of.”

“And he would have, on a budget,” Eisuke said.

Kaito made an odd sort of humming noise and bit into his burger.

“I picked one that was  _ safe _ but still pretty cheap,” Eisuke said.  “But, thinking about it, it was probably close enough to the ones that weren’t for his purposes.  My city’s smaller.  Here...it might be a little trickier, since things are more spread out.”

“And we don’t even have a way of contacting one another over distances,” Kaito said, frowning.

“About that…” Shinichi said.  “The antidote wasn’t the only thing I picked up from the professor’s house.”

He reached under the table and pulled out a small canvas backpack, unbuckled the flap holding it closed at the top, and rummaged through it for a few seconds.  After a few seconds, he pulled a small plastic bag out.

“I know it’s a little embarrassing, but they’re practical,” Shinichi said, face tinged red.  

Heiji leaned over, squinting.  “Are those... _ Detective Boy Badges _ ? _ ” _

Yep, they were.  He thought someone else might’ve said something after that, but he was too busy laughing his head off to hear.

Shinichi swatted him in the shoulder,  _ hard _ . “They’re like walkie-talkies, which means we can use them overseas without paying extra charges.  Look, do you want to be in contact or not?”

Kaito was snickering, too. “Is it really appropriate to give  _ me _ one of those?”

“You better not take advantage,” Shinichi said with a scowl.  “I’m not chasing you anymore, but Genta, Ayumi and Mitsuhiko didn’t make any promises, and if you use this to learn how  to jam their badges’ signals…”

“I wouldn’t!” Kaito said, holding a hand to his chest, eyes wide.

Eisuke rolled his eyes.  “Thank you, Kudou _ -san _ .  It was a very practical thought.”

“See, look, someone appreciates me,” Kudou said, handing out the badges.

Eisuke pocketed his, Heiji tucked his into his wallet, and Kaito  _ vanished _ his--to where, he only knew.

“Hondou _ -han _ jus’ has really good manners is all,” Heiji said.  “I’m sure he thinks you’re ridiculous too but he’s too polite to jus’ say it.”

Eisuke snickered.

Shinichi  _ pouted, _ lower lip out and all.

“Don’t pout, Conan _ -kun _ !” Kaito chirped.

“Come over here and say that again; I’m tall enough to punch you now,” Kudou threatened.

Eisuke shook his head.  “Enough, you two.  If you’ve got time to banter you’ve got time to read the files Officer Cassidy gave us.”

“And eat,” Heiji added.  “Even if British McDonald’s tastes weird.”

“The sooner we get done with this, the sooner we can check out that crime scene,” Shinichi said. “Hey, where is it, anyway?”

Heiji checked the files.  “Well, technically, there’s two of them.  One where the murder happened, and one where the arrest almost did.”

“Are they close together?” Eisuke asked.

Heiji shrugged.  “I’d need a better map--I can’t tell walking distances with the one from the hotel,” he said.  “I... _ think  _ so, but...either way, it’s probably better to go to the arrest scene first, since that’s nearer to where people said they saw Hakuba.”

“I’m all for that,” Kaito said.  “How far is it from here?” 

“We’re gonna need to take the Tube,” Heiji reported.

“Dang it,” Shinichi said.

“It’s the only way to get around in this city,” Kaito said, but his voice was odd--just a little bit flatter than normal.  

Heiji clearly wasn’t alone in not liking the Underground.

But they did need it to get to the crime scene.  Well, it, and a map Heiji had picked up from the hotel, because the crime scene wasn’t right next to the Tube station.  English addresses were  _ weird _ .  Simpler than Japanese ones, or at least they had less parts, but they were harder to figure out.  Like, who decided the building-numbers and why were some streets numbered by thousands and others by hundreds or even just tens?  Where did they start, and stop?  Wouldn’t it be  _ easier _ to just make a grid and start having  _ chome _ ?

It took twenty minutes, a lot of arguing, and at least one death threat from Kudou toward Kaito that sounded kind of serious, but they made it to where the murderer had been arrested.

There wasn’t much to the crime scene, now.  The tape, the marked areas of evidence--everything like that was gone.  But the neighborhood around it was still there, and that was a clue, too.

This was  _ not  _ a good part of London.  The ward it was in, New Cross, seemed to be a mix of creeping gentrification and “not quite a safe place to be at night” and this particular back alley came off of a street that was definitely in the second category.  There was a group of teenagers across the street, gathered together and standing in a way that looked relaxed but  _ wasn’t _ , a man in worn clothes who was probably homeless standing,  _ not _ sitting, next to a lamppost, and all the while pedestrians walked the sidewalks with heads ducked down and bags held tight to their sides.

Halfway down the block, there was a shop with plastic covering the front window, taped down at every corner but already coming loose, and there was something about that which bothered Heiji besides the way it added to the place’s not-quite-safe feeling.

And then, it hit him.

“Hey, Kudou, d’ya see--” he started.

“Yeah,” Kudou said, grin bright and sharp as his eyes met Heiji’s.  “Come on!”

This was the best part of working a case with Kudou, the moment when the facts and deductions gathered together and formed into something solid, and there was no need to say it out loud, because coming to any other conclusion would be intellectually clumsy, in a way that both of them trusted the other not to be. 

“What are we seeing?” Kaito called out from behind them as they both ran toward the storefront with the broken window.

“The window’s broken,” Kudou said, a bit winded, as they came to a stop.

“Okay,” Eisuke said, sounding confused.  He looked thoughtful for a few seconds.  “Oh!  The glass on the jacket!”

Kudou nodded.  “It’s a good place to start, at least.  We should talk to the owner.  Hattori, would you mind?”

Heiji grinned.  “Sure,” he said. “I’m glad yer finally acknowledgin’ my superior English skills.”

“I’d tell you not to get a swelled head, but I see it’s too late,” Kudou grumbled. 

Heiji pushed past him and into the store. A bell above the door jingled as it opened, and a blast of musty air practically hit him in the face.  The place looked like a really haphazard mix of an antique store and a second-hand store.  If you squinted, even in the low light, you could see glimmers of glass caught between the floorboards.

A bored-looking teenager leaned over the counter, cap pulled low over greasy hair.  “Can I help you?”

“Hey, what happened to the window?” Heiji asked.

The teen rolled his eyes.  “It broke.”

Heiji rolled his eyes right back.  He knew guys like this back in Osaka.  “I mean,  _ how _ .  We’re looking for a missing person and we think he was involved.”

“Look, I wasn’t even here,” the teenager said, straightening to reveal a nametag that read  _ ROHAN. _  “All I know is, two blokes had a row outside the shop and then they went through the window.  The manager was in and he chased ‘em out right quick but that didn’t fix the window or put the front display back together, now did it?”

_ Okay, apparently dialects suck in second languages, and I understand why all the English tourists who only knew Tokyo-ben kept staring at me _ , Heiji thought.   _ The heck is a “ _ bloke” _ anyhow--he’s using it like a noun, it’s gotta be a way of referring to a kind of person, but what  _ kind  _ of person?  And...isn’t “ _ row” _ what you do with a boat?  Why would they be rowing a boat outside of a shop, and isn’t that a weird way to form that verb in the first place...Ugh, I give up. _

“Do you have your manager’s number?” Heiji asked.  “We would really like to talk with him.”

“I’ll go into the back and get it for you…” Rohan said, unenthusiastic.

“It’s him,” Kaito said, urgently, in Japanese.

“Who?” Shinichi asked.

“Look, out on the street, that’s Hansen _ -san _ ,” Kaito said. “The tall one, with the dark hair and the chalky tan streaks on the sides of his shirt.”

Heiji saw him almost immediately.  He looked like someone had tried to stick muscles on an armature dummy and had ignored how odd the final product looked.  The tan streaks were makeup--he’d been trying to cover up gang tattoos on his arms.  No wonder Kaito had spotted him; he was probably offended by the poor disguise on a professional level.

“Cassidy- _ san _ said to stay off her case,” Shinichi said, almost as if he was reminding himself.

“He  _ talked  _ to Hakuba _ -san _ ,” Eisuke said.  “We need to talk to him.  This  _ is  _ our case.”

“Okay then,” Heiji said.  He turned to Rohan.  “We’ll be back for that number!” 

After that, it was like some sort of plan had been made, only no one had actually said anything.  Kaito was nearest to the door, so he was out first, and then the others after, but they’d all forgotten that dang bell.  

It rang, and Hansen looked over, and Heiji saw his eyes widen.  

Hansen bolted, and the chase was on.

“Use the badges!” Shinichi shouted as they ran. “It’s too crowded to stay together!”

It was too crowded to keep good sight of Hansen at all, in fact.  At least Hansen was tall enough to stick out and Heiji was tall enough to see him, but height didn’t do much when it came to getting a person through crowded mid-day London.  Heiji wasn’t  _ overweight _ , but kendo meant that he’d put on enough muscle to be a little bulky.  He couldn’t just weave between people the way Kaito-the-probable-gymnast was most likely doing.

In Japan, he could’ve yelled to the crowd to stop the guy, but he had  _ no  _ reputation here and in fact was likely to get in trouble if his dad figured out where he was.  Talking to Cassidy was one thing but actually getting involved in an official arrest and attracting a lot of attention was a bad idea for him.

And a worse idea for Kaito, AKA Kaitou KID.  So, not an option.

_ Oh, right, the badges, _ he thought, and pulled his out, careful to keep eyes on Hansen’s bobbing hair as he did.

“He’s heading for the intersection!” came Kaito’s voice, strained.

“I’m at least five meters behind him,” Heiji reported.  “I can try to keep eyes on him but I can’t keep promises!” 

“I’m on a fire escape,” Kaito said.  “I lost him, now I’ve found him, I think he’s headed for an alley-- _ Tantei-kun, _ if you go down the sidestreet on your left I think you should be able to intercept him.”

“Okay,” Kudou said, sounding a little breathless.

“Are you okay, Kudou- _ san _ ?” Eisuke asked.  “Also, Kuroba _ -san _ , someone’s gonna notice you on that fire escape.  People probably live in that building.”

“I’m sure no one will-- _ oh shoot I am so sorry ma’am _ \--” There was a series of bangs, a yelp, and what sounded like a cat yowling.

“I’m fine,” Kudou said. “Worry about KID.”

“I’m fine too,” Kaito said faintly.  “The only casualties were a potted plant and my dignity.”

Heiji tried to push past a man in a dark grey suit, and he pushed Heiji backwards, instead.  When Heiji had his footing back, Hansen was out of sight.  “I lost him,” he reported.

“Me too,” Eisuke said.

“I’m just lucky I didn’t injure anything landing,” Kaito said.  “ _ Tantei-kun _ ?”

Silence.

“Kudou?” Heiji asked, not bothering to hide the worry in his voice.

The speaker crackled, and then Kudou finally spoke, sounding even more winded than before.  “I think the antidote’s wearing off.  I’m going to get somewhere safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for a little discussion of forensics, some discussion of the apotoxin possibly damaging Shinichi’s long-term health, and some slapstick injury.
> 
> Yeah, I just came off of a multi-week hiatus with a cliffhanger. Do you all hate me yet?


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To any other Americans here--hope you were able to vote, and that the outcome of the election is one we can all live with. Hope you enjoy the fic, too--there’s going to be some glimpses at what’s happening back in Japan starting in this chapter, so I hope you have fun!
> 
> Warnings at the end, per usual.

The thing was that, in the most technical sense, 'cop instincts' were as much myth as fact. Cops had good instincts, sure, but they weren't special or magical the way a lot of guys Ginzou's age liked to think.  Anyone who was in a dangerous profession long enough got them.  Cops just got a little more freedom to act than, say, soldiers, and so they could actually rely on the instincts to govern their actions and hone them to a greater extent.  But still, they weren't magic.  Sometimes what you thought was a hunch was really just paranoia, or stomach acid.  Funny feelings weren't science.

But this didn't feel like just any funny feeling.

Kaito was still recovering from that horrific near-miss of an accident.  According to Aoko he just barely had the range of motion for his normal antics in class and they still looked painful. Which made the fact that Chikage said she’d given him permission to go visit a distant, ill relative outright bizarre.  Really, the distant relatives should have been coming to _him_ , about a month or so ago, when he was barely conscious enough to walk around.  He was just a _kid_ , for f***’s sake; couldn’t Chikage at least have gone with him if the relative needed visiting that badly?  It didn’t fit with the weird protective thing she’d been doing lately.

Chikage had been worrying him in general, recently, ever since the late-night bar trip.  She was quiet and thoughtful and intent in a way he was used to only seeing glimpses of, but now it was like she wasn't even trying to hide that aspect of herself. Which was creepy as heck. If Kuroba Chikage couldn't be relied on to be a puzzle-box in vaguely human form, what could he even trust anymore?

So, Chikage acting even weirder than normal, check.  Kaito off alone on a trip he couldn't possibly be healthy enough for? Check.  And then the weird rumors started going around the Tokyo MPD.

That strange little niggling in his gut suddenly getting way too strong to ignore? Also check.

Time to start investigating.

"Inspector Megure, what's this about Conan-kun going on a sudden trip?" He asked, walking into the man's office.

"If you're here for the betting pool, I don't know anything and you should talk to Officer Shiratori," Megure said tiredly.

“The h***--no, you know, I don’t want to know,” Ginzou said.  “But he did leave, suddenly?”

Megure nodded.  “His mother showed up out of nowhere on Monday, apparently.  They’re off to...Ran was a little unclear; so was Edogawa _-san_ apparently.”

“Monday,” Ginzou repeated.   _That’s when Kaito left._

“We think Hattori _-kun’s_ meeting up with them, somewhere,” Megure said.  “He left Osaka, and all anyone really knows is that he didn’t tell anyone where he was going ‘til he was halfway there.  Kudou _-kun_ might even be involved, this time.”

“Your high school detective,” Ginzou said.  “What exactly...happened...with him?”

Megure raised an eyebrow.  “You think I _know_?”

Ginzou blinked.  “He’s been out of school for months, I hear people saying it’s a case...I thought…”

“People think all sorts of things,” Megure said, mouth cutting a grim line across his face.  “Here are the facts of it: Kudou- _kun_ was missing for 48 hours before he got in contact with anyone.  That was long enough for us to put out a missing persons report.  Later, he called Ran _-kun_ , and even later, he actually showed up to a crime scene, but when we tried to take the missing persons report out of the system, his parents asked us to leave it there.”

Ginzou stared at him.

“Since then, he’s been back,” Megure said, but there was an edged drawl to the tone.  “He’s been wearing masks, and glasses, and speaking from loudspeaker systems so no one will see him.  The first time he showed up after he disappeared, he was so sick we called a doctor to a crime scene.  He solved the case, then vanished again before the doctor could get there.  We _assumed_ he was all right somewhere, but...Takagi got nervous and called a few morgues, and I didn’t stop him.”  Megure tugged at the brim of his hat, scowling.

“S***,” Ginzou breathed.

“Whatever’s happened--or is happening--it’s not good,” Megure said.  “The junior officers are cottoning on, too.  I have a _h***_ of a time keeping a lid on it.  It’s probably the same for you.”

Ginzou crossed his arms, a bit affronted.  “Not quite,” he half-growled.  “Mine’s gone, permanently, and he’s not coming back unless we find him and drag him here.”

“Mine wants to be here, but someone or something’s stopping him, and no one will tell us enough to help.” Megure held eye contact.  “Most of what I know about the kid’s wellbeing nowadays comes from Ran- _kun_ and Edogawa _-kun_.”

“The only thing I know about Saguru _-kun_ is that--maybe--he’s not in Paris,” Ginzou huffed.  “But that’s from my neighbor getting drunk and babbling.”

“How would your neighbor know?” Megure asked, apparently thrown.

“How does she know anything?” Ginzou shrugged.  “She’s creepy and she asked her creepily long list of international friends to look for him, probably.  But she’s acting weirder than usual and now her son’s gone on a trip at the same time as Edogawa and Hattori, and _I don’t like this_.”

“Her kid--wait, is this the Kurobas?” Megure asked.  “Because if Edogawa, Hattori, and one of the missing person’s closest acquaintances left at the same time, that’s a _whole_ different matter.”

“What?” Ginzou asked.  “Okay, I don’t think you understand how _badly_ those two got along…”

“I talked to the Superintendent-General; I have an idea,” Megure said dryly.  “But the only kids Hakuba _-kun_ talked to, period, were your daughter and Kaito _-kun_.  He was also one of the last people to see him before he left, even if he _doesn’t_ remember it.”

“So, what, you think they abducted him to help them do an unauthorized investigation of Saguru’s disappearance?” Ginzou asked.

“I think they might have talked him into it,” Megure corrected. “You can get pretty far with most teeangers by appealing to their sense of adventure.”

“You _saw_ Kaito when he came in for the interview, he’s still not fully recovered, there’s no way f***ing adventure would get him to go travelling around like _that--”_ he broke off, thinking about it.  “But finding Saguru would.  He’s been worried as h*** since the kid disappeared.”

“Like you said, they didn’t get along,” Megure said mildly.

“They didn’t--don’t,” Ginzou said firmly. “But Kaito’s altruistic streak tends to run a little _too_ wide, if you know what I mean.”

Megure raised an eyebrow.

“Kid almost fell out of a tree trying to get a baby bird back in a nest when he was 11,” Ginzou said with a sigh.  “He was high enough he would’ve broken something important, but, no, it was more important for the bird to go back with his parents.  He insisted he would’ve landed right after I was done yelling at him.”

Megure snorted.  “Okay, so he’s a bleeding heart.”

Ginzou considered arguing for about a second.  “Yeah, basically.  Doesn’t matter that he doesn’t like Saguru, he still wouldn’t want anything bad happening to him.”

“You should probably warn his mother,” Megure said.  “I don’t think Hattori _-kun_ and Edogawa _-kun_ have ever gone on vacation without finding a murder.”

“Let’s hope they manage it this time,” Ginzou said.  “You know about what happened to his dad, right?  Even though that _wasn’t_ a murder, kid’s got some issues about it.”

“It would be odder if he _didn’t_ , honestly,” Megure said.  “But those two have the luck of a _shinigami_ , so I wouldn’t be optimistic.”

“How likely are they to get _him_ in trouble, though?” Ginzou asked.

“Not very,” Megure said.  “I’ve had _them_ come back with all sorts of injuries but everyone else is usually uninjured.  Traumatized, but uninjured.”

“I can live with that,” Ginzou decided.  “I don’t like it; Edogawa’s what--eight?--but he’s not the one I’m most concerned about right now.”

Megure gave him a sympathetic look.  “It’s been a long time, for a missing persons case...but if they really are looking for Hakuba _-kun_ , then there’s no one with a better chance of finding him.”

“You’ve got a lot of faith in a loose-cannon teenager and a grade schooler,” Ginzou said quietly.

“Hattori _-kun_ just makes a bad first impression,” Megure said. “And Edogawa- _kun_ seems to get him to focus on the right parts of the case.  It’s odd, but it works for them.”  He paused.  “You’d trust Hakuba _-kun_ with something like this, right?”

Something twisted in Ginzou’s gut.  “Guess I would.”

“You should probably talk to the Superintendent-General,” Megure said.  “He should know, if someone’s doing something to find his son.  And I think he’ll like it better coming from you.”

Ginzou raised an eyebrow.

“Superintendent-General Hakuba doesn’t play favorites, not really,” Megure said.  “But you’re the one he let watch his kid for all that time.  Think about it.”

Walking out of Megure’s office, Ginzou did. Or at least tried to.  He missed back when investigating had actually cleared things up.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Shinichi came back to consciousness cautiously.  Because his head was throbbing, and it was hard to think, but there was one thing he was very, very sure of, and it was that he was coming back to consciousness, not waking up.  Whatever had happened, to make him unaware, it hadn’t been voluntary.

Things came back slowly. He remembered seeing the murderer from Cassidy’s precinct’s case, the one who had probably fought with Hakuba.

He’d run, and, they’d all given chase, and Shinichi had gotten separated from the others…. _oh._

He hadn’t been sure how the man was keeping the pace he was.  He had to be at least a little exhausted, after so long hiding from the police and probably Hakuba and possibly even _Them_ \--it wasn’t like _Them_ to leave a loose end, after all.  But even so, Shinichi, even with the advantage of his full height, was starting to feel warm with exertion, his muscles aching faintly with every movement, and he still hadn’t caught up.  

By the time Kaito had directed him down that side street, his lungs had felt tight in his chest, and he’d absently registered it as odd.  But he hadn’t paused until the moment that his field of vision suddenly started pitching and tilting, as if the world was moving around him, though he _knew_ it wasn’t.  Then, he realized the warmth wasn’t exertion at all.

He’d registered the sound of his heart pounding, loud enough that he could hear it over the crowd around him, and he was _almost_ ready for that first tearing stab of pain in his chest.

“The antidote’s wearing off,” he’d managed, into the phone. “I’m going to get to someplace safe.”

The _d***_ vertigo had just gotten worse as he spoke and _boy_ was that a lot of pain, but, all he had to do was find an alley or an empty bathroom or something.  

In the middle of broad daylight.  In London.

He remembered cursing, and pushing past some people.  Jamming the badge into a pocket--which one, he wasn’t sure, but he definitely remembered cloth, and then two empty hands.  Had anyone responded to what he’d said?  He didn’t remember.  He’d muttered out “excuse me,” a few times, unsure seconds later if he’d managed the right language or not.  And then, he’d felt a wall under trembling, sweat-slick fingers, and after that...nothing.

Slowly, carefully, he opened his eyes.

Light.   _Ow_. His head was throbbing, faintly. He shifted, muscles protesting faintly at the movement, and there was an even worse spike of pain at his hip, bad enough for nausea to tug at his stomach.  He choked back a groan and shut his eyes.

“He’s awake!” a loud voice said.

Head hurting--bright light--he half expected--he opened his eyes again, and there he was, child-sized and lost in the folds of his adult-sized shirt.

At least it seemed to be daytime, but now the similarities of the two situations had Gin’s laughter echoing in his ears and the phantom aftertaste of gag reflex and pill coating lingering on his tongue.  He shook his head, as if to clear it.

_Ow._

Shaking his head was a _bad_ idea.

“You okay, kid?” the same voice asked, in bass-toned English.

“I hurt, especially my head and hip,” Shinichi said, and it sounded a little more pathetic than he’d tried for it to sound.   _Embarrassing._

“No wonder,” the voice said.  “You’ve got the start of a nice bruise on your head.  Didn’t know about your hip, though.  Can you look up for me?”

He did, and was faced with a man with a bushy beard wearing what was obviously a London police uniform.  His badge said _FORRESTER_.

“Pupils are the same size, that’s good,” the man said.  “But you still look like you hit your head pretty hard.  And we don’t know exactly what happened to you.”

Shinichi just blinked at him.

“We didn’t find a med-alert bracelet,” Forrester elaborated.  “Do you have one?”

Shinichi shook his head, winced and stopped.

“Did you get heatstroke?” a woman with long, dark hair asked, leaning over Forrester’s shoulder.

“No,” Shinichi said.  “Maybe? I don’t know what happened.”

He was so _tired_. And his hip really did hurt, his head felt like there was a woodpecker on it, and his throat felt like he’d gargled sand.  What the _heck_ had he done to himself?

“Why were you alone in London in the first place?” the woman asked.  Her hair slid away from her badge, and Shinichi could make out the name _CLARKE_.

“Don’t overwhelm him!” Forrester snapped.

“I’m not overwhelming him, I’m trying to reconstruct events!” Clarke replied snappishly.

“He’s a foreign kid, hurt, in a strange police precinct, he’s probably already overwhelmed and you’re not helping,” someone called from across the room.

“What’s your name, kid?” Forrester asked.

“I’m Edogawa Conan,” Conan said. And then remembered himself. “I mean, Conan Edogawa.  Conan’s my given name.”

“Thank you, Conan,” Forrester said.  “My name is Officer Forrester, and this is Officer Clarke.  Could we call someone for you?”

Shinichi blinked.   _Can they?_ _Wait...no, Kaito has a phone, in case his Mom calls…shoot, which one is it?  KID’s, or his?  I’ve seen both numbers, at least._

“My cousin has a phone, but I don’t know if it’s really _his_ , or if he borrowed his mom’s,” Shinichi said.  “I have both the numbers, though.”

“Okay,” Forrester said, patient. “You tell me the numbers, and I’ll write them down, okay?”

“No, no, I need to call!” Shinichi protested.  “If he’s looking for me, and someone else calls, he’s just gonna hang up!” _I’m not giving police officers Kaitou KID’s private line.  That’s...no.  Not doing it._

“Okay,” Forrester said.  “But it’s a long way to the phone, and you’re very little and hurt.”

_Insult to injury_ , Shinichi thought, resigning himself to a long, tiring fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for some canon-typical awfulness, including references to actual canon awfulness, while Megure and Ginzou talk, and injury to a seeming child during Shinichi’s section.
> 
> Because of the people narrating and the way chapters are broken up, I wasn’t able to make this adequately clear in the text, but Shinichi is not seriously hurt. The police haven’t quite figured out all of what’s going on with him, partly because they just found Shinichi a little while ago and partly because these are not London’s finest pediatric first aid providers. Shinichi himself isn't aware because he's not feeling well enough to do a good self-evaluation. It’ll be clearer next chapter.
> 
> Finally, because I’ve had the odd reviewer correct me on “mistakes” before--Ginzou says Toichi wasn’t murdered because, to Ginzou’s knowledge, Toichi died in an accident.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do, again, apologize for that cliffhanger.
> 
> There are gonna be a few more OCs than usual this chapter, for reasons that will soon become clear. I hope that you now trust me not to create Mary Sues, and I can actually promise this time that no one is Hakuba in disguise, so you can also trust me in that way.
> 
> There are warnings at the end if you need them, per usual. I’m going to frontload one of them because it’s an unusual thing for the fic--there’s an incident where something said in good faith is mistaken for casual racism.

“ _Kudou!”_ Heiji’s shout was loud enough to make Kaito pull the badge away from his ear.

Kaito got it, though.  Kaito felt exactly the same way.  After seeing what Shinichi went through, when he transformed...it was not pleasant, to think of him doing that in the middle of a street, somewhere, in a part of London that didn’t seem very friendly.  And then there was the risk to him if the wrong person saw.

“Take a deep breath, Hattori _-kun,_ ” Kaito said.  “Do you know where you are?”

“I--”

“Look for landmarks,” Kaito advised, starting to get up.

He winced as a few sore muscles shifted.  He’d hit the ground in a roll, but he couldn’t have made the fall painless even if he’d had a trampoline waiting--he still had bruises and strains left over from that ill-advised heist, never mind the still-healing bullet wound in his back.  You could spread out an impact, sure, but you couldn’t get _rid_ of it.

“Are you okay, Kuroba _-kun_?” Eisuke ventured.

“Just banged myself up a little,” Kaito said.  “Hattori _-kun_ , those landmarks?”

“There’s a kebab place,” Heiji said.  “And a fancy restaurant, I think.”

“Okay,” Kaito said slowly, trying to remember the lay of the street.  Being KID gave him a lot of practice with memorizing the layouts of places on the run, but it didn’t help him with remembering what the signs had said.  He hadn’t looked at them--he was faster at reading than speaking English, but reading on the run was still a little beyond him, so he hadn’t wanted to waste the time.

“You didn’t read the signs, didja?” Heiji asked.  

_Detectives_ , Kaito all but swore to himself.

“Um, okay, I’m near a big white fancy building on one side o’ the street and a big--well, I think it _used_ ta be white, now it’s jus’ dirty lookin’--cement box on the other.” Hattori said.  “Takes up most o’ the block; there’s a coupla storefronts in it…”

“Okay, that I remember,” Kaito said.  “I know where you are.  You’re not far from the side street Kudou _-san_ went down.  About two blocks ahead of you, there’s an intersection; can you wait there for me?”

“Okay,” Heiji said, an edge to his tone.  “But…we need ta hurry an’ look, ya know.”

“I know,” Kaito replied seriously.  “Believe me, I understand. But panicking won’t help us find him.”

“I know,” Hattori said sharply.

No one talked much more than necessary after that.  While darting through the crowd and doing his best to keep the renewed aches in his back from getting elbowed, Kaito carefully guided Heiji to the corner where he’d told Shinichi to turn.  Eisuke, hesitantly, spoke up, and said that he wasn’t far from there and would meet them in the same place.

When Kaito made it to the corner, he immediately picked out Heiji--it wasn’t so much by height or anything else about his appearance, but no one else there was radiating anxiety so intensely.  He was drumming on his thigh again, fingers moving almost too fast for Kaito to track--almost.  Kaito _was_ the Magician Under the Moonlight, after all.  Eisuke was beside him, looking ill at ease but nowhere near as horribly tense.

“He turned down this alley,” Kaito said, pointing.

Heiji was off and running before he finished the sentence.  

Eisuke made a disgusted noise and followed, leaving Kaito with little choice.

“Turn up here, _idiot_ ,” Kaito shouted at Heiji, because he was not particularly pleased.

Heiji thanked him, but his return insult was a bit stronger than Kaito’s choice.  Maybe that meant something different in _Kansai-ben_?  Kaito could hope.

“ _Tantei_ - _han_ , stop!” Kaito shouted, as they passed the point where Shinichi _should_ have intercepted Hansen.

Heiji stopped all right, turning on his heel and glaring murder at Kaito.  Poker Face snapped into place.

“This is where he was supposed to cross paths with Hansen.  Since we know he _didn’t_ , he must have at least been slowing down by here,” Kaito said.  

“So he’s around here,” Heiji said.  “Or ‘e was.”

“Bingo,” Kaito said in deliberately incomprehensible English, relishing Heiji’s grimace at his horrid pronunciation.   _Distraction, check_.

“Thank you, ma’am, I appreciate it,” Eisuke said, drawing their attention.  He grinned.  “That woman saw a strange young Japanese boy run through here a little while ago.  She doesn’t remember which way he was going, but she saw him.”

“Good,” Kaito said.  “Thanks, Spy _-san_!”

“Honestly, can you stop with that?” Eisuke grumbled halfheartedly.

Heiji, meanwhile, was scanning the area.  “Kuroba _-han,_ could ya look around while Eisuke and I ask people ‘bout if they saw ‘im or not?”

Kaito nodded.  “Sounds like a plan.”

He scrambled to the top of a building and started looking, only half-paying attention to Heiji and Eisuke’s efforts below.

He was so focused, in fact, that he nearly missed yet another fall from a high place when his phone rang.

_Mom’s timing is_ awful _,_ he thought, fishing the phone out of his pocket and picking it up, not even bothering to check the caller ID.  Who _else_ would be calling? Everyone else with the number for this phone knew he was overseas.

“Hey, sorry, I can’t really talk right now--” he started.

“Kaito _-nii-san_?” came a worryingly rough version of Conan’s high-pitched voice.

“Conan?” Kaito half-shouted, forgetting the honorific in surprise.  “Where _are_ you?”

“I’m--I dunno?”  he paused, then asked.  “Where is this?”

There was a bit of noise, and then a new voice came onto the line.  “Hello, this is Officer Forrester.  You’re Conan’s older brother?”

Well, Kaito hadn’t understood _half_ of that.

“My English is bad,” Kaito said.  “Please wait.”  

Kaito stuffed the phone in his pocket, swung down the building’s fire escape, and plowed through the crowd until he found Heiji.  Then, he shoved the phone in the guy’s face.

“Kuroba _-san,_ the h***?” Heiji demanded, taking the phone.  “Who is this?”

He listened for a second, then broke into a smile, and started babbling back in English that Kaito didn’t bother trying to decipher.  Tracking down Eisuke was more important.  All three of them needed to be together to go wherever Shinichi was, after all.

After a bit of searching, he spotted a flash of dark hair and glasses across the street.

“Hondou _-san_!” he shouted, because the nickname might not work in this crowd.

Eisuke all but ran over just as Heiji was hanging up the phone.

“He’s at the Deptford Police Station,” Heiji reported, a mix of joy and relief on his face.  “The local cops found him.  He was passed out, and it looks like he hit ‘is head a li’l, but he’s up and talkin’ now.”

“Good,” Eisuke said.

“Did you get directions?” Kaito asked.

He had, and they ran most of the way there.  It was a big old brick building, more in line with the kind of thing that Kaito had expected to see out of London than a lot of New Cross had been so far.  

And, it was full of police.   _Joy_.

Probably oblivious to Kaito’s discomfort, Heiji pushed open the door of the station.  Kaito really didn’t have any choice but to follow him in, Eisuke trailing close behind.

“Kudou!” Heiji shouted, forgetting himself completely, at the sight of a slightly battered, tiny Kudou sitting in one of the front hall’s chairs, still dressed in his older self’s shirt and nursing a Styrofoam cup that Kaito hoped was full of water and not coffee.

He had an already-visible bruise on his forehead, he was pale, the way his bangs sat on his forehead suggested they’d been soaked with sweat recently, and there was a tightness to his face that said he was in pain.  But his eyes were open, and tracking, and that was good enough.

There were two officers with Shinichi--a bearded man whose badge identified him as Forrester, and a tall, long-haired woman whose badge said she was Clarke.  They were both staring at Kaito, now, for some reason.

“Saguru?” Clarke said slowly.  “When did you dye your hair?”

Beside Kaito, Eisuke startled.  “Where?”

“Next to you,” Clarke said, with an eyeroll.

“Me?” Kaito squeaked.   _It makes sense.  Facial prosthetics, makeup--those cost money.  So does dye, but a lot less, especially since you have to use it less often than makeup.  So he probably changed his appearance gradually once he got the money to do it…  Which means early on he looked exactly like me, except blonde enough to pass for half-British._

Heiji had paused in scrupulously looking Kudou over for further injuries to stare.

“I am not Saguru,” Kaito managed.  “I am Kaito.  Conan’s cousin.  I...know a Saguru, though.”

_But...wait.  How_ do _they know Hakuba?_

“Wait...do _you_ know Saguru?” Eisuke asked.

Forrester looked at him, confused.  “Well, we know a kid _named_ Saguru, but he was adopted by Hashimoto’s aunt and her husband.  And if you knew him, you’d know he looks _exactly_ like your friend.”

Eisuke’s mouth gained a stubborn set.  “Okay, I’m really about done with the ‘Asians all look the same’ stuff--”

_What was it like for him in America, exactly?_ Kaito thought, startled, even as he held up his hands and said in Japanese.  “Hold on, Eisuke, he really _might_ look like me, remember?  We _don’t know_.”

Heiji seemed to be looking right through him.  Shinichi’s frown was belligerently skeptical.  And Eisuke didn’t seem particularly mollified.  But no one was challenging him outright, and he’d take that as a win.

“We know him,” Heiji said slowly, in English.  “If the people who adopted him are named Hakuba, we know him.”

“Yeah, that’s the name,” said a third officer, a younger man with the name “Chaudhry” on his badge.  He didn’t seem particularly happy about it.

“Really?” Clarke said.  “That’s...a pretty big coincidence.” She sounded doubtful.

“Not a coincidence,” Kaito said, carefully echoing her pronunciation.

“Yeah, not really,” Eisuke said.  “We didn’t come _here_ on purpose, but we’re in New Cross because we think he’s here.”

“Didn’t you say you knew him from Japan?” Chaudhry said.  “Why would you think he was here?”  He paused, then leaned through a nearby doorway into another room. “Hashimoto, is your aunt’s family visiting?”

“God, no, they’re busy with family stuff,” Hashimoto said, walking into the room.  He wasn’t quite tall and he looked...not old, but like his thirties hadn’t been kind to him.  

“So they told the extended family,” Shinichi said quietly.

Hashimoto paled.

Clarke looked puzzled.  “Told them _what_?”

“Saguru ran away from home about two months ago,” Eisuke said plainly.  “We’re here looking for him.”

Chaudhry blinked.  “You’re a bunch of teenagers.”

“Not this again,” Heiji sighed.  

“Hattori,” Kaito asked, feeling _weird_ as he left off the honorific, “how’s Conan?”

“The bruise is worse than it looks, but he’s _very_ dehydrated,” Heiji said.  “And he says he bruised his hip, too.  Also, he’s got real clothes in his backpack; why hasn’t anyone let him go change?”

“He hasn’t been here that long,” Forrester said.  “And we were wondering how he ended up in those clothes, anyhow.”

Heiji shrugged.  “Guess he decided to play dressup?  I dunno.  He needs more water.  And we need information about Saguru.”

“I’ll say it again, you’re _teenagers_ ,” Chaudhry said.

“Saguru is one teenager, and I know he has a pretty well-deserved reputation,” Eisuke said.

“His solve record’s still better than yours,” Shinichi sing-songed, poking Heiji in the leg with his foot.

“Shut up!” Heiji snapped.  “And keep drinking that water, you little _idiot_.  When we’re done getting information for the case I’m gonna yell at you for an hour.”

Shinichi ducked his head just slightly.  

“So you’re a detective too?” Forrester asked.

Heiji nodded, scratching the back of his neck.  “Yeah.  Conan here wants to be one when he grows up too.”

“And the rest of you?” Clarke asked sharply.

“Kaito goes to Saguru’s school; he knows Saguru best out of all of us,” Heiji said.  “Eisuke...is an expert at some useful things.”

Eisuke grinned in a deceptively innocent way, considering his expertise was actually “how to fool intelligent people into misinterpreting your agenda.”

“So you’re just...investigating?” Forrester asked. “By yourselves?’”

“When were you going to tell us he’d gone missing?” Clarke demanded, turning to Hashimoto.

Hashimoto grimaced.  “I think you can understand why I didn’t want to.  Especially when I didn’t think he was in the country, let alone London.  It would just be bad news you couldn’t do anything about.”

“But now you’re saying he’s here!” Clarke said.  “How do you know that?”

“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble,” Eisuke said, before Heiji could speak.

Clarke raised an eyebrow.

“We have good information,” Conan said firmly.  “But you could help.”

“Of course we could, we’re the _police_ ,” Chaudhry said.  “You should have reported it the moment you knew there was a missing person in our jurisdiction.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Eisuke said.  “This is...really, really complicated, actually.  And the time it would take for us to explain all of it to you, well, we just don’t have it.  It’s better if we’re the ones who look for him.”

_And I’m officially starting to lose the thread of the conversation_ , Kaito thought, despairing.   _Too many clauses, ugh..._

“Saguru was always telling us to leave his problems alone, too, and look how that turned out,” Forrester said, regret plain on his face.

“Really?” Kaito asked.  He had caught at least the general direction of that statement, and it was _not_ comforting.

Forrester blinked.  “Was he not like that, in Japan?”

“In Japan he was...ice,” Kaito said, the struggle for words no longer only due to the language barrier.  “Not much showed.”  And then, half a world away from home, something that should have been obvious from the start finally clicked.  “A Poker Face.”

“He was weird about corpses,” Heiji said.  “Didn’t like seeing them.  But other than that, he was always... distant, about things.”

Forrester looked faintly horrified.

“Well, no wonder he ran!” Clarke snarled.  “It was da--” she broke off, glanced at Conan, and amended, “really obvious that he had some issues, and if that’s how he was dealing, it’s no wonder he snapped!  Hashimoto, what were your aunt and uncle _doing?_ ”

“Trying not to spook him into doing a runner!” Hashimoto snapped.  “Which obviously failed, but can you fault them for trying?”

“Okay, go back to the part where Hakuba having issues was known,” Heiji said.  “Because back home, we did _not_ know that.”

“It wasn’t exactly known _here_ , either,” Clarke said.  “I thought the captain or Forrester or one of the other senior officers had noticed, but apparently not.”

“But you did?” Eisuke prompted.

“Jumpy, closed posture, quiet...and he did _not_ react well if you touched him without warning,” Clarke said.  “He didn’t look like he slept well, I think he lost weight over the time he worked with us, and his clothes never fit.  How was it _not_ obvious to everyone that he was in a bad situation?”

“So what did you do?” Heiji asked.

“ _I_ thought the captain knew, and was handling it,” she spat.  “Otherwise, why would we be letting a kid who looked like he needed Child Services on crime scenes?”

“But I guess the captain didn’t know…” Eisuke said slowly.

“Saguru wouldn’t answer questions about himself,” Forrester said.  “He just...wouldn’t.  He was getting such good results on cases...we decided not to push.”

“Uncle Tsuyoshi chewed us out for that, later,” Hashimoto said. “He couldn’t believe that we didn’t even know Saguru’s surname, or where he lived.”

“Did you ever figure any of that out?” Shinichi asked.

“Well, we figured out that he came to crime scenes near New Cross Gate a bit faster than others,” Clarke said.  “There were a few terrible flats in that area back then; he was probably renting one of them.”

“That could really help, thank you,” Heiji said.  

“What, you think he’s around there again?” Chaudhry asked.

“What’s it to you?” Forrester asked.  “You never liked the kid.”

“He was creepy!” Chaudhry said.

“He was better than you, and you got jealous instead of improving,” Clarke said, hands on her hips.

“Yeah, so, I didn’t like him,” Chaudhry said.  “You weren’t the only one to notice something off, Clarke.  But all of you were so convinced he must be the good and innocent one in this situation.  Weird kid who’s good at murders shows up out of nowhere and no one questions it?  It’s just not natural.”

Heiji shrugged.  “I thought like that too, at first,” he said.  “I thought he was going to kill someone someday.  Kaito disagrees.”

“ _Yes I do!”_  Kaito practically shouted.  Hakuba was technically him, and no matter how different they were, just...no.

“He’s got that feeling, though, hasn’t he?” Chaudhry said.  “Maybe it is jealousy.  But maybe we shouldn’t have let a kid who wasn’t always all there onto crime scenes at all.  You’d look over sometimes and his eyes would just be--blank.” He shuddered. “And then he’d come back and everyone would hang on his every word like he wasn’t a few seconds off of some sort of episode.”

Kaito didn’t get all of that, because Chaudhry talked _fast_ , but he caught “eyes” and “blank” just fine, and...there were a few heists Kaito remembered, when Saguru’s eyes had been that way.

“They probably didn’t notice,” Forrester said, softly. “I didn’t notice.”

“ _How_?” Chaudhry asked.  “Like, at least, all that time-announcing, you _have_ to have realized that wasn’t just some sort of funny eccentric thing he was doing.”

Kaito scrambled to put the words together.  “ _Time-announcing”... “wasn’t just”... “funny”... “thing”...does he think the time-announcing was more than a weird quirk?_

Kaito blinked.  “What?”

“The first time he did it, I don’t even think he realized he did it out loud,” Chaudhry said, impatient.  “He was talking to _himself_.  I mean, he played it off afterward, but, seriously, are you all that gullible?”

“Hattori,” Shinichi said in Japanese, “remember when you said the pocketwatch sounded like a comfort object?”

Heiji stared back at him for a few seconds, fingers drumming on his thigh, and then swore in Japanese.

“Excuse me?” Forrester said, annoyed.

“That’s...that’s a grounding technique,” Heiji said haltingly.  “For flashbacks, and that kind of thing, to remind yourself of when it is, so you know it isn’t whenever your brain is remembering.”  He winced.  “There are older police officers in Osaka who have problems like that.”  

_Sure, and that’s the only place he knows about that from,_ Kaito thought sarcastically.  If Heiji had never had to remind Shinichi of when and where he was, Kaito would eat KID’s hat with wasabi and mayonnaise on top.

Which was a nice, funny mental image and conveniently distracted him from the fact that Hakuba had apparently been having flashbacks and no one had noticed.  Possibly, Kaito had been one of those people who didn’t notice, if Hakuba had still been having them in Japan.  And then he had turned something he’d done to deal with the flashbacks into a weird personality quirk.  Which, okay, that much sounded like something Kaito would do.

That was a whole other can of worms.  What, exactly, had _happened_ in that other timeline to scar Kaito-who-became-Hakuba so badly?  

Kaito would be the first to admit he was not a picture of mental stability, and, okay, yeah, there were a few things he was a little screwed up over, but...generally, if he steered clear of Akako in small spaces, people with guns, and fish, he was okay.  

“Okay” did not seem to be a word that described Hakuba at all during his early career with the British police force.

“Everything we knew up to now said he might have some problems,” Eisuke said, in a calming tone.  “It’s not really that surprising, is it?”

Shinichi looked as doubtful as Kaito felt.

“But, you said near New Cross Gate,” Heiji said.  “That’s good.  That’s a place to start.”

Kaito had a thought.  “The last time you saw him was when?” he asked.

“It’s been a while,” Forrester said.  He glanced at Hashimoto.  “How long ago _was_ it that he actually left for Japan?”

Kaito blinked.  “No visits?”

“I mean, they came and visited once, but I don’t think he came by the precinct that time,” Hashimoto said.

Kaito shook his head.  “No...meaning...by himself..” He broke off, and switched to Japanese. “Hakuba went on trips to Europe, alone, at least four or five times when we were in school together. I assumed he came here at least _once_.  What was he _doing_?”

Eisuke quickly translated, leaving the officers gaping.

“No, he was never here,” Chaudhry said.  He glanced at Hashimoto, who seemed to be fiddling with his phone.  “How rich _is_ your uncle, to pay for that?”

“Really, really, rich, mate, he’s got a mansion,” Hashimoto said. “Two of them, actually. The one here’s small, compared to the one in Japan.  I’ve seen pictures.”

“Mom said it was big,” Kaito said with a nod.  

“Didn’t you say you were friends with him?” Hashimoto said, suspicious.

Kaito shook his head.  “Not friends, in same class.   _Big_ difference.”

“Then why are you _here_?” Chaudhry asked. “It’s a bit much to come halfway across the world for someone who isn’t even a friend.”

Kaito glanced at Heiji, who just met his eyes, levelly.  Next to him, Eisuke shrugged, practically saying, _It’s your decision_ , without words.

“He might be in trouble,” Kaito said.  

“He’s been on his own before,” Forrester said.  “I don’t think it’s ideal, and I’d like to get him back to Hashimoto’s uncle if I could--”

“Not just that,” Shinichi said.  His eyes weren’t completely open, but they were focused on Kaito, and there was something almost like trust in them.  “There’s a case.  A relative of mine’s mixed up in it, and now he is, too, and it’s _dangerous_.”

“And you think you can help?” Clarke asked.

“We think he’s better off investigating it from somewhere he has a steady roof over his head and backup he can call on,” Heiji said.  

“Backup is good,” Shinichi agreed quietly, and there was a layer of meaning there the London police clearly weren’t meant to grasp.  

_If Shinichi hadn’t been alone at Tropical Land...well, we’d still be able to call him Shinichi in front of people right now, wouldn’t we?_ Kaito thought, rueful.

“So we need you to tell us _anything_ that could be important,” Eisuke said.  “ _Please_.”

Clarke frowned, concentrating.  “The only places that we went for cases that he seemed to know about were pubs, unless you count New Cross Learning.”

“New Cross Learning was also the only place where anyone recognized him,” Forrester said.  “Well, later on, of course, from the papers, but we never ran into any of his neighbors or a store clerk he’d spoken to, or anything like that.  And he never tried to speak to anyone, either, even when he knew about them.”

“Kept to himself, _ne_?” Heiji said, quietly.  And then, “The pubs thing is weird.”

Kaito had to cut that false lead off fast.  “Not really,” he said, in Japanese.  “They’re good places to find criminal activity.  If I were trying to find trouble, that’s where I’d start.”

“Do you still have case files, maybe, from the cases when he recognized a person or a place?” Eisuke asked.  “We think he’s probably starting in familiar locations, so it couldn’t hurt to have some to hand.”

“We can’t just _give_ those to you!” Clarke said.  “Those are case files, they have names and addresses and--”

“Then, just the addresses?” Heiji pressed.

Forrester looked at Clarke.  “What harm could it do, really?”

Clarke scowled. “Fine.  Chaudhry, go get them--”

“What are you doing trying to order me around?” Chaudhry snapped.  “You’ve only been here a half-dozen months longer than me, and we’re the same bloody rank.”

Clarke scowled, and opened her mouth to reply, but Hashimoto spoke first.  

“Actually, I’ll take them to the filing room with me and get the addresses,” Hashimoto said. “I’d like to speak with them a bit more before we send them off.”

Heiji glanced at Shinichi. “You up to coming?”

Kaito gave Heiji an incredulous look.  “You’re _asking_ him?”

“Good point,” Heiji said. “Conan, we’re gonna go talk with Officer Hashimoto.  You stay with the nice officers for just a little bit, and then we’ll go back to the hotel so you can rest.”

“See if I call you next time we get a serial killer in Tokyo,” Shinichi spat after them in Japanese.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Warnings for discussion, albeit not always in technical terms, of dissociation, flashbacks, grounding techniques, and PTSD. As mentioned in the opening note, also a statement that gets misconstrued as casual racism. Also, significant injury to a seeming child.
> 
> I took advantage of the characters’ experiences and limited knowledge to arrange Eisuke’s misconception about why Forrester says Kaito and Saguru look alike, because it is somewhat important to the plot that the boys not figure quite everything about the connection between Kaito and Saguru out at this point. That said, I’m sorry if anyone finds my choice of how Eisuke misinterprets it offensive--I think it’ makes sense, given the kind of experiences he would have had in a relatively suburban-to-rural part of Virginia, but I’m aware that some people are wary and/or outright disapproving of writers portraying discrimination they don’t experience (and I am not Asian).
> 
> If you left me a review last time, I’m planning to catch up on replies over the next week! Stupid cold last week got me behind schedule...


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Focusing back in on the boys this week. Please see the end-note for warnings!

The filing room was surprisingly well-lit for a room that was pretty much all filing cabinets, but there was something ominous about it, nonetheless.  It wasn’t the peeling paint, or the bare light bulb on the ceiling...it just... _was_.

“Why don’t you shut the door behind you, Eisuke _-kun_ ,” Hashimoto said almost sweetly, in very passable, if accented Japanese.  “And then someone can explain why Conan _-kun_ is threatening _not_ to call Hattori _-kun_ in when a serial killer shows up.”

_And that explains the ominous feeling_ , Eisuke thought, swallowing.  He shut the door, but not quite the whole way, so it would still muffle sound, but any locking mechanisms wouldn’t have a chance to work.

“His old man’s a PI,” Hattori said.  “Conan knows I like interesting cases, so sometimes he’ll tell me when there is one.”

“Sleeping Kogoro, wasn’t it?” Hashimoto said, quite casually.

Heiji eyed him. “If ya knew who his guardian was, why didn’t ya do somethin’ about it sooner?” he asked. “I woulda expected ya ta have Mouri- _han_ on the phone before we ever got here.”

“I didn’t know that when we found him,” Hashimoto said, sounding genuinely insulted.  “But after you mentioned Saguru, I texted my uncle.”

Eisuke swore mentally.

“Good of you, to check up,” Kaito praised cheerily, undaunted.

“None of you have permission to be on this investigation,” Hashimoto replied flatly.  “You’re supposed to be visiting _relatives_.”

“Conan’s a relative?” Kaito tried.

“Then why is he living with Kogoro instead of with you and your mother?” Hashimoto asked.  “He’s not really your brother, is he?”

“Well--” Kaito started.

Eisuke cut him off.  “His parents aren’t here, and neither are his guardians, and I don’t think it’s really feasible to get either of them here soon. But we weren’t sure you were going to give him back to teenage friends he wasn’t even related to, either.  It was meant to be a white lie.”

“Do you normally lie to police officers?” Hashimoto asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I help Aoko lie to Inspector Nakamori about whether she used low-sodium soy sauce in dinner pretty much constantly,” Kaito said blithely.  “Does that count?”

Hashimoto just sighed.  “And you--your father is apparently livid,” he told Heiji.

“That’s why I didn’t tell ‘im in person,” Heiji said.

“But now, not only has the son of one superintendent-general run away, the son of the other has run away to find him,” Hashimoto said. “You see how this could seem like the situation worsening, rather than an improvement.”

“Well, if you insist on lookin’ at it like that,” Heiji huffed.

“We had good cause to come to London,” Eisuke said.  “We’ve told you that we have reason to believe Saguru’s in danger.”

“Please tell me you didn’t tell the superintendent-general that,” Kaito said.  “He’s worried enough as it is.  And Saguru can probably take care of himself, if it comes down to it…”

“Either he’s in real danger, or he isn’t, you have to pick one,” Hashimoto said.

“He’s in danger, but he knows it, and he’s probably ready for it,” Eisuke said.  “It’s just the _probably_ part that’s got us worried, you understand.”

“And that Superintendent-General Hakuba doesn’t need to know about,” Kaito insisted.  “This has to be hard on him; he looked like h*** last time I saw him.”

“Funny, he said the same thing about you,” Hashimoto said.  “He seemed surprised that you were up to a plane trip.”

“Wasn’t really, but not for the reasons yer thinkin’,” Heiji muttered.  “He takes ‘anxious flier’ ta a whole new level.”

“I’m not that bad!” Kaito protested.  “And it’s been two months; I’m pretty much recovered now.”

Eisuke could see Hashimoto scanning his posture for something that belied the statement; he wasn’t going to find it, though.  A month ago, maybe, Kaito had been in enough pain to let things slip, especially around extremely talented detectives he was reluctantly coming to trust.  Now, talking to a relatively unknown quantity?  No chance.

That said, Eisuke had absolutely no doubt that Kaito was lying like a rug about how he was feeling, but he was getting disturbingly used to that sort of thing.

“Well then,” Hashimoto said. “If you insist.  Let’s move to my biggest concern.  One of you admitted that you weren’t friends with Saguru, and his father’s told me that another of you has a pretty public rivalry with him as well.”

“I never made a secret o’ not likin’ him; doesn’t mean I wanna see ‘im hurt,” Heiji said.

“Not wanting to see someone hurt and all but running away from home to attempt to find them are very different things,” Hashimoto snapped.  He glared at Eisuke.  “I’d also like to know exactly why Uncle Tsuyoshi doesn’t seem to mind that he knows nothing about you.”

Eisuke blinked.  Next to him, Kaito’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Eisuke couldn’t help wondering what Kaito was understanding that he wasn’t.

“You’re all suspicious and I’m really not sure I should be giving you information,” Hashimoto said.

“You want Saguru found, don’t you?” Eisuke said.

“You should be leaving that to the police,” Hashimoto replied.

“They’re not exactly doin’ so great so far,” Heiji pointed out.  “Only reason they know he left Japan is that I told ‘em.”

“You trusted Saguru for how long, apparently without even asking for basic information, and now you’re being suspicious?” Kaito asked.  “I still can’t believe that.  He could have been anyone.  You need to at least _check_ that sort of thing.”

“...We all thought someone else had,” Hashimoto said.

“That’s ridiculous,” Heiji said.  “You need a better bureaucracy around here.  My dad could teach ya a lot, I bet.”

“Your father is nicknamed the Demon of Osaka, I think perhaps they might pass, if given a choice,” Kaito chirped.  

There was a little glint of steel to Kaito’s smile that said, _And boy does this kid take after his Dad, so you might wanna cooperate._

Well, if _that_ was how they were going to do things….

“What, exactly, do we need to do, to prove ourselves trustworthy?” Eisuke asked plainly, taking a step forward.

“Explain why you’re so interested in this case,” Hashimoto said.  “None of you have a compelling reason to want to help Saguru--”

“And now we need motives for _solving_ crimes, as well as committing them?” Eisuke asked, frowning.   _He’s got a point, but this has gotten out of hand.  We_ can’t _give him all the information he wants._

“You have to admit, it’s a little suspicious,” Hashimoto said.

“If you can’t accept ‘we’re doing it because it’s the right thing to do’ as a motive, that’s your problem, not ours,” Eisuke said flatly.  “But all we’re asking for is some addresses.  Ones that might not even be useful in the end.  If you still think that’s too dangerous to give us, you’re moving toward an alarming level of paranoia.”

“I don’t know that I trust you,” Hashimoto said.

“Which, ironically, makes me trust you a lot more,” Kaito put in.  “I like the suspicious streak.  That’s a good thing to have right now.  But we won’t be able to stay in London forever, and if we want to get anything done, we need those addresses.”

“Yeah, an’ I’d like ta get Ku-Conan back ta the hotel room sooner rather ‘n later,” Heiji added.  “He needs ta drink water ‘n rest.”

Hashimoto scowled.  “Uncle Tsuyoshi barely knows any of you, so you probably don’t know, but that kid means the world to him.  If you do _anything_ to him, it will be the entire Tokyo Metropolitan Police Force after you.  I’ll just be an afterthought.”

“We’re well aware,” Eisuke said, grinning like his mother faced with a rude guest.  “But thanks for watching out for him, even if it did take you a while.”

Hashimoto’s scowl just deepened.  “The addresses will take a few minutes.  You can wait here, or with the kid.”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;

Heiji looked around the hotel room and sighed.  Some rescue party they’d turned out to be.

Kudou was a half-conscious ball of misery on the foldout couch, with a bag of peas they’d picked up at a convenience store near the police station resting on his bruised hip and a small blanket Heiji thought was supposed to be for decoration layered over that.  He’d gotten dressed in Conan’s clothing again at the police station, and hadn’t changed out of anything but the glasses and sneakers when he laid down.  Kaito had flopped onto the bed nearest the door the moment they’d all gotten into the room and was still sprawled across it like some sort of giant starfish.  It had been a half hour and the most he’d moved was shifting his face a little so his nose wasn’t pressing down into the mattress directly.  Eisuke was sitting on the other bed, the one nearer the couch, spine ramrod-straight. He was making at least a token effort to read through the addresses and files they’d accumulated throughout the day--but he kept glancing from Kudou to Kaito and back again and every inch of his posture screamed “worry.”

That left Heiji to force Kudou into drinking until his body actually recovered from the number he’d done on it.  So there he was, walking back and forth from the bathroom to the couch with a cup so he could wake Kudou up enough to make him drink.  

Forget protecting Hakuba from the Black Org.  Like this, they’d probably have trouble protecting him from a single unarmed pickpocket.

Though, given what they now knew, it was more likely that Hakuba would _be_ the pickpocket.  

_Stop this ride, I want off_ , Heiji thought, wishing he could lie down, too.  

Unfortunately, someone had to take care of the rest of them, and he wasn’t trusting a single one of them to do it themselves.

He sidled up to the couch, glass in hand, and lightly shook Kudou’s shoulder.

“Go ‘way,” Kudou murmured.  “Sleeping.”

“No, you’re drinking water,” Heiji said patiently.  He raised his voice.  “And then the rest of us are getting some food.”

Kaito made a groaning sound.  “I’ll pass.”

“On dinner?” Eisuke asked, skeptical.

“If it involves moving, yes,” Kaito said.

“Ya know, you could try _not_ doin’ stupid acrobatics while healin’ up,” Heiji said grumpily.

“This place does have a restaurant downstairs, and there are menus on the desk,” Eisuke said.  “I think they have fish and chips.  I’ve always wanted to try that.”

The bedsprings creaked. Heiji looked over in time to catch Kaito at the end of a full-body shudder.

“You okay over there?” he asked.

“Nope,” Kaito said, with an air of forced cheer.  “That hurt. Whoops.”

“I think it was more _why_ you flinched that much when we mentioned getting food,” Eisuke ventured.  “Are you feeling sick?”

“I--yeah--no,” Kaito said.  “That was a really nice out you just gave me, but no.”

Heiji had no idea what he was on about, and opened his mouth to say as much.  Eisuke reached out a toe and kicked him, very gently, in the calf.  

Heiji gave him a betrayed look.   _Kudou’s contagious_ , he thought.

“I, um…” Kaito broke off, and with some effort sat up, hair messier than usual and clothes disheveled.  “There’s a thing.  About that.”  He paused.  

“That’s real specific,” Heiji muttered.

“Shut up; this is _hard_ and you aren’t helping,” Kaito snapped.

Okay, so it was like _that_.  Heiji knew he had a reputation as a loudmouth, but there were times...when there was too much going on at once, when he was just a little _too_ stressed, when something was _complicated_ and he had no idea how to boil it down into words...sometimes, he just couldn’t get things _out_.  

“Okay, just take a deep breath, and try again,” Heiji said, not quite gently.

Kaito smiled back-- it was a little sickly, but it wasn’t KID at all, not even at the edges, and that felt like a win.

His expression turned serious again, and he started messing with the hem of his shirt, just sort of rolling it back and forth.  “It wasn’t the food it was...uh, well,” his voice turned strained, “ _fish._  It’s the _stupidest_ phobia, I would laugh if it was anyone else, really, but it’s not, and I _can’t_ be around them, not even dead ones, I start panicking, _I would rather go back to the police station and tell them I’m KID_.”

By the looks of it, he wasn’t even okay around _hypothetical_ fish.  His skin was paling rapidly and there was sweat shining on his forehead; also, he looked like only his dignity was keeping him from pulling his knees up to his chest.  To be fair, some of it was probably nervousness about _admitting_ to the fear, but _still_...

“Breathe, Kuroba _-han_ , _s***_ ,” Heiji said.  “Jus’--count if ya have ta, but _breathe_.”

Kaito did, the kind of slow, even breaths Heiji expected from Kudou.  His hands were shaking, just a bit.

“Tell me you weren’t serious about that last part,” Eisuke said.

“No?” Kaito said, sounding unsure.  “Maybe? Probably?  I don’t really know.  I wouldn’t rather die in jail than be around, um, certain ocean creatures, but I think I could probably escape from that place before one of _Them_ showed up to kill me, so…”

Eisuke made a faint despairing sort of noise.  Heiji agreed with the sentiment.

“That’s why, about the sushi,” Kudou muttered sleepily.

That faintly rang a bell for Heiji, so he spent a few seconds trying to recall it.   _Oh yeah, that night after the heist.  I pretty much forgot about that bit of weird what with everything else that happened._

“Yeah, that’s why,” Kaito said, still looking edgy.

“No harassing KID ‘til you’re up to staying awake for a half-hour at a stretch,” Heiji said.  “It’ll be your prize.”

“Hattori _-san!_ ” Eisuke scolded.

“I gotta motivate him somehow!” Hattori protested.  “And this way Kuroba _-han_ has time ta prepare.  Besides, ya don’t really think any o’ us could actually tell Kudou Shinichi ta let somethin’  go an’ have it work, now do ya?”

Kaito actually giggled.  “If I prank him enough, he might let it go.”

“Oh no, we all have to sleep in this hotel room, an’ I’m the one on the floor!” Heiji protested.  “If ya get glitter everywhere, it’s me who’s gonna suffer!”

“You underestimate my ability to target pranks,” Kaito said.

“I don’t underestimate your ability to _make your injuries worse if you do that_ ,” Eisuke snapped.  “Honestly.”

“I won’t do that,” Kudou said softly.  “I wouldn’t...poke at your fears like that.  Not just for my own curiosity.  If I start, just tell me to stop, and I will.”

Kaito blinked, wide-eyed.  “Um, okay.  I mean, I will.”

“No one is judgin’ ya here,” Heiji said.  “Well, not fer this.  I reserve the right ta judge yer sense o’ humor an’ yer secret-keepin’ as often as I want.”

“Fair,” Kaito said, nodding.

“It’s a tourist pub, so there’s gonna be f--” Eisuke started.

Kaito flinched.

“Okay, you aren’t feeling good anyway, so why don’t you and Kudou _-san_ tell us what you want, and Hattori- _san_ and I will go and get it?”

Kaito nodded.

Heiji glanced at the couch. Kudou had nodded off again.

Eventually, he and Eisuke managed to get orders out of both a drowsy Shinichi and an uncharacteristically jumpy Kaito.  At least _getting_ the food didn’t take that long--they seemed to have caught an off time for buying dinner.

When they finally made it back to the room, Kaito was actually on his feet, and apparently trying to make Kudou drink by staring at him.  To Kaito’s credit, it was working--Kudou was sitting up, with a mostly-drained glass of water in his hands.

“He’s more awake now,” Kaito said, grinning.

“‘Cause you won’t shut up,” Kudou all but growled.

“Ah, but it’s for a good cause,” Kaito said lightly.

“Look, here’s the food,” Eisuke said.  “Heiji got you some extra fruit, Kudou _-san_ , I hope you don’t mind.”

“Don’t _tell_ ‘im!” Heiji scolded.

“What, you were going to just hand them to him and hope he ate them?” Kaito asked.

“He said it worked before,” Heiji said, shrugging.

“The circumstances were different,” Kudou said, yawning a little.

“That’s gotta be a story,” Kaito said.

Kudou made a sort of huffing noise.  “My first serial murder case,” he said.  “I was pretty tired by the second all-nighter.  Can we not talk about it, though?  ‘M already kinda nauseous.”

Kaito shut his mouth, three shades paler than he was a second ago, while Eisuke winced, just slightly, in the middle of dragging a side table over to the couch so they could properly sit around it.

Heiji just shook his head.  In this, even Kaitou KID was a bit of a civilian.  

After the table was moved, Heiji started passing out the food--water, soup and citrus fruit for Kudou, and a mix of sodas, various grilled meats, and potatoes for the rest of them.  Heiji was almost positive this was tourist food, but he was equally sure that getting non-tourist-food would involve more effort than the group of them could muster.  They could get something authentic after they slept.  Maybe even after they actually found Hakuba.

That was a real nice thought.  Increasingly unrealistic, but nice.

Heiji sat on the couch next to Kudou, Kaito sat down on the edge of the bed across from him, and Eisuke pulled a chair up to the side of the makeshift table.  

Kudou, apparently still awake enough to realize it was time to eat, straightened, blinked down at his soup, and then wrinkled his nose.  Heiji was about to be offended when he reached for his glasses, still folded up and balanced a bit precariously on top of his shoes.

_Oh, that’s it,_ Heiji thought.   _He just forgot--wait, what’s he even puttin’ those on fer?  He ain’t feelin’ good an’ there ain’t anyone here to hide from._

Eisuke got to them first, grabbing them out of Kudou’s reach.  Kudou stared up at him, uncomprehending.

“Kaito’s been showing up without a mask for a while,” Eisuke said softly.  “Isn’t it time you do the same?”

“But--” Kudou started.  “It’s not...it’s how I keep things separate.  Being Conan, and being myself.”

The bedsprings squeaked, and Heiji caught just a half-second of Kaito _wincing_ , like Kazuha on the sidelines at a tournament seeing someone get an injury she’d had before.

Oh.   _The friggin’ Kaitou KID would know about this sort of thing, wouldn’t he?_ Heiji thought, chagrined.

“And when you’re with us, which are you?” Eisuke asked, a bit more firmly, as Heiji’s attention was pulled back to the matter at hand.

“I’m myself,” Kudou half-whispered.

“So _be_ yourself,” Eisuke said.  “We’re the only ones here to see, and we already know.  You don’t have any reason to hide here.”  He paused, tensed, then said, “Let yourself have this, okay?”

_Thank heaven for Hondou Eisuke_ , Heiji thought, as Kudou’s eyes fell back to the soup.

He looked more like Kudou, without them, but also younger.  Or maybe that was just how tired he looked right now.  Hard to tell, really.  

“On the subject of masks, though, Kuroba _-kun_ , how sure are you that you can’t tell us any of what you haven’t told us about Hakuba?” Eisuke said, putting the glasses down on the table.

“Pretty sure,” Kaito said, smile brilliant and all KID.

“It’s startin’ ta seem incredibly relevant, is th’ thing,” Heiji said.

“He’ll run again,” Kaito said.  “If he thinks you know, he’ll absolutely run again.  I’m aware it’s a horrid way to treat you, I know it’s not fair to you at all, but telling you would be at least as unfair to him.”

“Can’t you give us anything?” Kudou tried.

“You’re too good, and it’s all clues,” Kaito said.  “You can’t figure out this mystery, Tantei _-kun_ , not without collateral damage.  If you find him faster, only for him to run away again, it’s not worth it.”

“He’s put you between a rock and a hard place,” Eisuke observed.

“Yeah, I’m starting to remember why I used to want to punch him all the time,” Kaito said.

“Well, since we can’t turn Kuroba upside down an’ shake him ‘til answers come out, we’re gonna need another plan,” Heiji said, to a scattering of snickers from Eisuke and Kudou and an exaggerated, wide-eyed look from Kaito.  “Probably shouldn’t work on it tonight, but if Kudou drinks and Kuroba _-san_ rests, we should all be up to it bright an’ early tomorrow.”

“I’m fine,” Kaito protested.

Eisuke raised an eyebrow. Kuroba wilted.  

“It was easier when people actually _believed_ my lies,” Kaito muttered.

“You are incredibly disturbing, you know that?” Kudou asked.

“Says the guy who casually brings up his first serial murder case,” Kaito countered.

“At least they’re feeling a bit better,” Eisuke said with a shrug.

Heiji couldn’t argue with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Continued character injury, canon-typical levels of casually mentioning murder, an intense little discussion of phobias including a description of a character having a phobia reaction, and Kaito and Shinichi’s issues regarding their constantly false public presentation.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and leave me a review if you have the time, please!


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy winter holidays to you all! I finally posted a series playlist for Riddle in Reverse; the track listing and link are on tumblr [here](http://ninthfeather.tumblr.com/post/154526999520/ninthfeather-listen-on-suanfm-a-slightly)! 
> 
> This chapter introduces one more OC—the superintendent-general’s wife, Shiyomi. Hope you guys like her!
> 
> Warnings at the end, as always.

There were four places set at the Hakuba family’s dinner table.

“Are you expecting someone?” Tsuyoshi asked his wife, carefully.

She shook her head, and didn’t ask in return.  After all, if he’d asked, he could hardly be the reason for the extra place.

_Not that it’s extra, not really,_ he thought, in something like bitterness.  _But to sit here with the reminder of who is missing, and eat--I don’t think I could._

“Baaya,” he called softly, in the direction of the kitchen.

The woman leaned out, frowning, obviously in the middle of putting the finishing touches on the food.

“There will only be three of us at dinner tonight,” he said, gently.

Baaya’s frown tightened.  “Should I clear it away?”

“I will,” Shiyomi said.  “You can attend to the food.”

“She forgets as often as she remembers,” Tsuyoshi said in an undertone.  “Is it something we should be concerned about?  She is at an age--”

“As are you,” Shiyomi replied, at the same volume, as she rose to gather the place settings.  “And am I. You know why she’s doing this, and it’s nothing to do with age.  If you’re asking my expertise as a hospital administrator, your expertise as a police officer should be sufficient.”

“Shiyomi…” Tsuyoshi started.

“We both know you can grieve someone who isn’t dead,” Shiyomi said, a bit more gently.  Her tone hardened a bit.  “Though I know you’re trying to hide your worries about that from me.”

“Two months is a _very_ bad amount of time, in a case like this,” Tsuyoshi admitted, feeling himself slump in place.  _Regardless of what I’ve heard from Inspector Nakamori or her cousin...unless someone’s_ seen _him, we can’t know for certain_.

Shiyomi didn’t respond, busy putting the plate and silverware back into the cupboard in the corner of the dining room.  Finally, she sat back down.

“We knew, that it could end like this, when we took him in,” she said.

“We thought we did, but did we, really?” Tsuyoshi asked.

“Perhaps not,” Shiyomi admitted, smile rueful.  “You tried so hard.  We both did.  But I suppose it wasn’t quite enough, in the end.”

Tsuyoshi had debated, over and over, whether he ought to tell her that he’d spoken with Kuroba Chikage, and then with KID.  In the end, he’d decided not to. He was reluctant to bring up today’s developments for the same reasons.  All he knew about was people searching--not solid leads, and certainly not any sightings of his son.

_I won’t give her what might be false hope_ , he thought.  “I suppose it wasn’t.”

Shiyomi caught his eye.  “Don’t dwell on that, right now,” she said.  “It’s not often we both have off, the same night.  Our family isn’t whole, but we should enjoy what we have of it, for now.”

Tsuyoshi nodded.

It didn’t seem that long ago that an impulsive need to do _something_ about a lonely young man in dire straits had gained him a child who was already nearly grown. It really hadn’t been that long ago, in point of fact. And yet, he’d become an irreplaceable part of all of their lives, and he’d left a space behind him.

Shiyomi could tell him, and herself, not to dwell on Saguru’s absence.  But in the end, even without the place settings there, they would all find themselves occasionally glancing toward an empty seat, waiting for a comment from a person who wasn’t there to speak.

“My nurses have been talking about strange happenings at your precinct,” Shiyomi said, tone deliberately light, as Baaya brought in the food.  “I wasn’t aware you had a _shinigami_.”

“They’re talking about that KID-Killer child,” Baaya said, the small spark of amusement in her eyes not quite up to normal standards.

“What, Edogawa _-kun_?” Tsuyoshi said.  “I should put a stop to _that_ nickname; he’ll get a complex!”

“Is he that fragile?” Shiyomi asked, poking at a bit of _tonkatsu_ with her chopsticks.

“He’s _eight_ ,” Tsuyoshi said, with feeling. “Sleeping Kogoro’s ward; I’m sure I’ve mentioned him…”

“The child with the huge glasses,” Shiyomi said in realization. “I remember him from the bomb threat; he was a great help.”

Tsuyoshi shook his head.  “What is the world _coming_ to…”

He knew what Shiyomi had likely heard; Inspector Nakamori had reported it to him earlier in the afternoon, along with suspicions that Edogawa might be part of a group investigating Saguru’s disappearance.  Which...well, Nakamori was sharper than most gave him credit for, but he wasn’t, say, Inspector Yamamoto.  If he’d come to that conclusion, others might eventually, too, and all it took was one person with decent wits and less discretion than the KID Task Force’s head…

“If you heard rumors that he and Hattori Heiji are overseas, they’re true,” Tsuyoshi said carefully.

Shiyomi leaned forward.  “I’d heard they were working on a case.  But not where.”

Tsuyoshi braced himself.  “I received a few odd texts from your nephew in the British Police.  It seems they’ve taken Kuroba Kaito to London in search of our son.”

Baaya’s eyes brightened, a small smile spreading across her face.  Shiyomi’s expression, meanwhile, darkened. 

“And you didn’t tell me immediately?”

“All I know is that those three are looking for Saguru,” Tsuyoshi said.  _Well, and that they have a fourth, but I have suspicions about who that actually is and I probably shouldn’t mention him to you, given that._   “Your cousin said they claim to have reason to think he’s in London, but when pressed, they wouldn’t say _what_ reason.  They were odd and evasive through the whole conversation, but they did at least seem concerned.  Still...it’s no more a break in the case than Inspector Yamato taking over the investigation was.”

“But I was still informed when that happened,” Shiyomi said, tone all but glacial.

Tsuyoshi sighed.  “You were.  I’m sorry, dear, I just didn’t want to give false hope.”

Shiyomi’s expression softened.  “I know,” she said.  “But it’s not just that.  I want to know about it if there are children running away from home on our account.  I heard about Superintendent-General Hattori’s child, as well—though I admit I was planning not to mention it to you.”

Thinking on it, there were some unpleasant parallels between the two situations.  A superintendent-general’s son, abruptly gone with only the barest essentials in tow and no clues to where he was headed.  But Heiji had made clear his intention to come home when his business was complete.

“I can understand that,” Tsuyoshi said quietly.

“It’s not entirely false hope,” Baaya said, tentative at first, then more firm.  “Is it?  Those children…they’re geniuses, like the young master, aren’t they?”

“Yes, but genius isn’t enough to solve everything,” Tsuyoshi said quietly.

Baaya wilted slightly.  Shiyomi’s frown tightened.  Tsuyoshi regretted his words, just a bit.

“Perhaps not,” Shiyomi said.  “But it is something.  Still, it won’t do to spend the whole supper speculating about what those boys may be up to.”

“I suppose not,” Tsuyoshi said, searching the day’s events for a suitable change of topic.  “Well, we had another call from the Japanese Embassy.  Traffic’s been ticketing foreign diplomats again.”

“Oh, _goodness_ , is it the same officers?” Shiyomi giggled.  The shadows of distress were still in her eyes, but Tsuyoshi could see the change in topic doing her good.

It wasn’t enough, but it was something.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Eisuke woke up to the sound of Shinichi cursing, which was concerning enough to actually jolt him from groggy half-sleep to relative wakefulness at a decent speed.

“Give me the the _d***_ coffee,” Shinichi snarled, sounding almost dangerous.

Eisuke swore a bit mentally, and wondered if it was too late to pretend he was still asleep.  Oh, wait, _detectives._  So much for that plan.

“Caffeine’s dehydrating, an’ you jus’ got over—” Heiji was saying.

“Screw you, Hattori, you aren’t a doctor and that’s not even true,” Shinichi snapped.

“He’s right, it’s pseudoscience,” Eisuke agreed.  “Well, I mean, you really shouldn’t drink coffee if you’re already dehydrated and you have other options, because it doesn’t stay in your body as well as a lot of other drinks do.  But Kudou _-san_ should be recovered by now.”

“And by the end of the week I’m going to be back in a place where people keep telling me coffee will _stunt my growth_ ,” Shinichi half-growled.  “This?” he gestured to himself.  “This took a _lot_ more chemicals than are present in your average cup of coffee.  Just.  For the record.”

“Is he _always_ this grumpy in the mornings?” Kaito asked sleepily, from the other bed.

“Told me ta get outta his house once,” Heiji said, all fond amusement.  “Wasn’t even his house; it was the Mouris’.”

Eisuke was, frankly, baffled at how patient Heiji was being with Shinichi at the moment. Personally, he’d only been up for a few minutes and throwing pillows was looking like a _great_ option.

“I did _not_ tell you to leave, I asked you what you were doing there!” Shinichi fumed.  “Which was a valid freaking question since you were supposed to have left by then!”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Heiji said, feigning hurt.

Eisuke did, too.  Heiji was not being patient; Heiji was just cheerfully goading him.

_It’s too early for this_ , Eisuke thought, despairing, as he sat up.

“Kudou _-san_ , how are you feeling, besides caffeine-deprived?” he asked, tone clipped.

Shinichi took a breath, closed his eyes, then opened them again.  “My head doesn’t hurt anymore, and I’m not tired or out of it, either.  I’m still a little bruised up, but that’s--”

“Your hip?” Eisuke interrupted.

“Still hurts,” Shinichi admitted.

“I brought ibuprofen,” Eisuke said. 

“I don’t need--”

“It’s an anti-inflammatory,” Eisuke said.  “It’s not just going to stop the pain, it’ll bring down some of the swelling that’s causing it.”  He glanced at Kaito.  “And unless your back is at one hundred percent, you should take some too.”

Kaito started a protest, but Eisuke held up a hand.

“This is our only full day in London,” he said.  “We need to be in proper shape to search if we want to get anything accomplished.”

Kaito’s mouth thinned out into a grim line, but he stopped arguing.

“So, breakfast?” Heiji asked, a little awkwardly.

“Only if I get coffee,” Shinichi said firmly.

Eisuke sighed.

They got dressed and ready as quickly as they could, given that they were three teenagers and a seeming child, most of whom were used to living alone, rather than to having to share a single bathroom and a limited amount of floor space.  Kaito’s quick-changing skills could only help matters so much.

Getting downstairs and ordering food was no simpler, especially since the waitress tried to give Shinichi a kid’s menu and got the same reaction Heiji did when she said he couldn’t have coffee.  Eisuke, frustrated, finally ordered a cup for himself and promised to give it to Shinichi.

“All right, we’ll need a plan,” Eisuke said.

“I vote splitting up,” Shinichi said.

“Have you _ever_ watched a horror movie?” Kaito asked.

“Actually, not that many?” Shinichi said, an odd note of question to it.  “I mean, Mom likes watching them for the effects but Ran _hates_ them.  They scare her.”

Kaito looked confused.

“Can’t punch ghosts,” Eisuke, Shinichi and Heiji said at once.

“Y’know, if anyone could, it would be her,” Kaito said, a slightly distant look in his eyes.

“Okay, no, we need to focus,” Eisuke said.  “Shinichi has a point; we’ll cover more ground if we aren’t all together.  But we can’t go by ourselves; Shinichi looks like an unattended child and Kaito’s English isn’t good enough for the level of questioning witnesses he might need to do.”

“So, pairs?” Heiji said. “Me ‘n’ Kudou, you ‘n’ Kuroba _-han_?”

“Actually, what about the other way around?” Kaito said.  “You two know how to think like _detectives,_ sure, but Hondou _-san_ and I know more about how Hakuba thinks.”

“Okay,” Shinichi said, sounding a little reluctant.

The conversation stalled as the waitress showed up with the food. Shinichi snatched Eisuke’s coffee almost immediately, while Heiji watched Kaito drench a pile of pancakes in syrup in something like horror.

“We should also probably be worried about the fact that Superintendent-General Hakuba knows we’re here,” Shinichi said suddenly.  “If he sends police to find us, or to back us up…”

“He won’t,” Kaito said calmly, shoving a forkful of pancakes into his mouth.

Heiji raised an eyebrow.

“He knows KID’s here,” Kaito said. “He probably thinks KID’s in charge; hard to say if that’s a comfort to him or not, since he knows KID’s a criminal, but also a nonviolent one, and he likely thinks KID is an adult. Either way, he won’t interfere with us finding his kid by getting part of the search party arrested.”

“But…if he thinks KID is here…doesn’t that mean he knows you’re KID?” Eisuke asked cautiously.  “Shouldn’t you be panicking?”

Kaito grinned at him.  “But he doesn’t think I’m KID, he thinks _you_ are.”

“What,” Shinichi said flatly, as Eisuke gaped.

“Hashimoto said that Superintendent-General Hakuba was okay with knowing absolutely nothing about Eisuke’s background, remember?” Kaito asked.  “He knows who the rest of us are, and he knows KID is looking for Hakuba; he probably just assumed that Eisuke, who has no obvious connections to Hakuba, is actually KID borrowing some random person’s identity.”

Eisuke blinked.  “So, he doesn’t think _I’m_ actually KID, he just thinks KID is disguising as me.”

“I don’t think anyone in the police is quite ready for the idea that KID is actually a teenager, so that’s probably it, yeah,” Shinichi pointed out. 

“It’s not exactly the first conclusion a person would jump to,” Heiji added.

“So, no one’s sending police here, and the Superintendent-General is very amusingly wrong,” Kaito said, grinning wide.

“At least that’s one less thing to worry about,” Shinichi said.

“For you, maybe,” Eisuke huffed.

“Look, let’s just divide up the search area,” Shinichi said.

The rest of the meal turned into a bit of a production, with all of them reaching over each other’s plates to point out places on maps, but they managed to decide who was going where in about the time it took them to finish their food.

“So, we meet back at the hotel around six?” Heiji asked.

“Sounds good,” Eisuke said. “If we want to keep looking in the evening I think it’s best to do it as a group.  Also, we’ll need some time today to share what we’ve found.”

“We should keep our badges on,” Shinichi suggested, as he climbed down from his chair.  “Call in if anything happens, okay?”

“That goes for you, too,” Kaito replied, also standing.  “I’m-fine-unless-I’m-passing-out _-san_.”

“But I _did_ call, when I was passing out,” Shinichi said.

“Try callin’ ‘fore it’s an emergency, next time,” Heiji said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be with him this time,” Eisuke said cheerily, earning himself a glare.  “Come on, Conan _-kun_ , let’s go.”

Shinichi followed him out of the hotel, keeping pace oddly well given his shorter stride.  Then again, he’d had plenty of time to practice, and Eisuke’s legs were shorter than Mouri Kogoro’s, so it wasn’t like he would be that hard to keep up with, comparatively.  It was interesting, what you noticed about people, when you took time to pay attention.

“So, where to first?” he asked, deciding to let Shinichi take the lead for now.

Shinichi rattled off an address.  “It’s the farthest from here, but if we go there first, we can work back toward the hotel.  That way we don’t end up at the far end of New Cross when it’s getting late.”

“That’s smart, Conan _-kun_ ,” Eisuke said.

Shinichi made a soft sort of humming noise. “I’ll be honest.  I wasn’t that crazy about the way we ended up paired off; nothing against you, I just work well with Hattori.  But I think there’s a silver lining to all this.”

“Is there?” Eisuke asked, curious despite himself.

“Well, this way, you aren’t with Kaito,” Shinichi said.  “And you said you wanted to try fish and chips, right?”

Eisuke let out a laugh, out of surprise more than anything else. “Yeah, I did.  And I guess we have to have lunch eventually!”  He sobered almost immediately.  “We have a lot of searching to do before that, though.”

“And hopefully, some finding,” Shinichi replied.  “We turn down the cross street up ahead.”

Eisuke followed, half daring to hope that when they came back this way, it would be with good news.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Kaito had been surprised at how easily he fell into the rhythm of working with Heiji.  They were both pretty detail-oriented, and they both liked to present themselves as a lot less competent than they were, until showing all their cards became necessary.  They also both had impulsive streaks, but Kaito actually had a tighter rein on his, which should worry Heiji, really, because Kaito’s impulsive streak had nearly gotten him _shot_ a few times.  Though, according to Shinichi, Heiji’s had done the same.  And yet here they were, both of them occasionally asking questions too soon because they just _couldn’t wait_.

Kaito was of the professional opinion that they should never be allowed to do anything more dangerous than a search together without supervision.  Someone would probably end up injured.

It was something like five thirty, now, and they’d scoured nearly all the locations they’d claimed from Hashimoto’s list, searching for Hakuba and questioning anyone with relevant information.  There’d been a few witnesses who had stories of people who might have been Saguru, and some people who remembered his visits for past cases, but nothing that told them where he was now.  There was just one pub left.

“We’ve got to check it!” Kaito insisted.

“We’lll be late gettin’ back,” Heiji replied, crossing his arms over his chest.  “Kudou’ll freak.”

“Let him, we’re not here for Kudou,” Kaito said, a bit more harshly than he’d meant to.  “We’re here to find Saguru, it won’t make us that late to check here, just quickly, and if he was here and we didn’t look I will _never_ forgive myself.”

“You won’t, either, will ya?”  Heiji sighed.  “Look, you go ahead, but be quick about it.  I’m stayin’ out here.”

“It’ll go faster if you help,” Kaito wheedled.

“You’ll lose me in the crowd if I help, like ya did in the last coupla pubs,” Heiji replied. “No thank you.  I’m stayin’ here where ya can find me once yer ready ta leave.  If ya need translation call me on the badge.”

Kaito rolled his eyes, then hurried inside.

He scanned the pub, trying not to get distracted by the mob of people in unfamiliar street fashion, but it was _hard_.  There were men in shirts striped loudly enough to be distractions all by themselves, women in brightly embroidered headscarves, and at least one person wearing some sort of jumpsuit that looked like it had been stolen from a contemporary of the Beatles.

And...a woman, leaning over the bar, wearing a bright green cotton blouse and black slacks so crisply straight he could tell where they’d been ironed, her curling brown hair in a messy little updo.  Kaito filed her away for later; he could disguise as her with practically no work--he even knew how to get one of his wigs to look like that.

_Wait_.

That was _exactly_ the kind of disguise Kaito would choose for this kind of place.  A blouse with puffed sleeves to disguise noticeably muscular shoulders and an empire waist to hide narrow hips and keep the disguise chest piece in place.   The brightly colored shirt to draw the eye away from the black pants, which practically melted into the half-darkness of the room and were straight enough to hide that the wearer was more angular, wiry muscle than curves.  The result would be a woman with none of his physical characteristics, and with a little makeup, the character could even look frail enough that Kaito could laugh and say “Do I really look like I could do any of that?” when someone asked if he’s KID in disguise. It was a good trick.

The hair was the clincher, though.  Kaito _knew_ that style--artful dishevelment achieved with roughly fifteen bobby pins and half an hour of effort, but worth it in the end, because the hair stayed out of your eyes. It was from one of Aoko’s favorite fashion blogs, and she showed it to Kaito a week or so before the Nightmare Heist.

That meant Hakuba probably saw it around the same time, and once before, back when _he_ was Kaito.

So, he had sight of Hakuba.  Next step was getting close.  Approaching him straight off as Kuroba Kaito would be a mistake, he knew that much.  He’d need a disguise to get close.

He ducked into the bathroom, and took out his makeup kit, praying to every god he could remember a name for that Hakuba wouldn’t leave while he was putting together his disguise.  This was a rush job, so he went for heavy, Harujuku-Goth-style makeup, contoured just right to distort the size and shape of his eyes and mouth.  His dark sweater and jeans would work well enough--Hakuba could recognize them as items Kuroba Kaito owned, but they were sold across Japan and probably identical in cut to items available overseas.  A bit of hair gel to spike up the top of his hair and slick down the sides completed the disguise.  It wouldn’t hold at all in better light, or up close, but Hakuba wouldn’t be able to recognize him from across the room.

He took a deep breath, tried to ignore the sound of his heartbeat echoing in his ears, and then started toward the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for discussion of loss and grieving in the first section as well as some medical language and Shinichi’s poor coping mechanisms taking the form of lashing out angrily at people in the second.
> 
> Additional disclaimer: I am not a doctor, and please do not take medical advice from a fanfic. However, all the medical stuff in this chapter is correct to my knowledge. If you wanna get technical, caffeine is a diuretic; however, as it is present in coffee it won’t make you lose more water than you take in by drinking coffee. 
> 
> Currently, the prevailing feeling in public health seems to be that it’s better to drink something that’s not as healthy or hydrating as it could be than to not drink at all. Additionally, ibuprofen does reduce pain by bringing down swelling so in some cases it can be beneficial beyond pain relief.
> 
> In my original outline, the section where they search the locations they got from Hashimoto was going to be longer and more filled-out; however, by this point a lot of the significant things I’d wanted to do in those sections have already been done and it would have ended up as filler. No one likes filler—not the writer, not the readers—so I timeskipped that bit. 
> 
> Please look forward to the next chapter; I think you can probably tell that Things Will Happen in it.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little housekeeping update--if you want links to art, the playlist, or something else, and don’t want to go searching, there’s a [master page](http://ninthfeather.tumblr.com/fic-extras) on my tumblr now.
> 
> Warnings in the end note as always.

The bar wasn’t filled to capacity, but it was still a bit crowded, and most of the people there were engrossed in their own conversations, too much so to pay attention to one teenager trying to pick his way across the floor, or even see across the room to the bar.  Kaito was reduced to half-barking out “Excuse me” at regular intervals just to be heard over the conversation and pushing between more than a few people.

By the time he was within a few feet of the bar, Hakuba was staring in his direction.

 _Well, I wasn’t exactly subtle_ , he thought, chagrined. _At least he’s still here_.

Kaito took a breath, and made eye contact.

To his surprise, Hakuba didn’t seem to recognize him.  “I think there’s a themed bar down the street,” he said, in a slightly nasal alto voice with a hint of a laugh to it.  “You’re not really dressed for this place.”

Kaito grinned, and walked up to stand next to him.  He rested one elbow on the bar and flashed Hakuba a KID grin.  “Didn’t know there was a dress code,” he said, in his own voice.

“Kuroba _-san_ , what are you _doing_ here?” Hakuba demanded, switching into his normal vocal range and drawing back.

Kaito, honestly, was a little bit done.  “You really have to ask?”

“Kuroba- _san_ , this is _London_ ,” Hakuba said. “You are on the other side of the world.  On a school day.  This has absolutely gone too far.  You’re being ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous about it?” Kaito asked, annoyed.

“I’ve said again and again I’m not coming back,” Hakuba said.  “We’ve both got experience with wild goose-chases of sorts, but I’m far less important than Pandora.”

It was one thing to acknowledge that he himself thought that way, but it was another thing to hear it out of his other self’s mouth.

Specifically, it was subtly horrifying to hear it out of his other self’s mouth.

“You are _not_ ,” Kaito said, and then had to bite down on his lip, because there were implications in that statement for himself, too, and he was _not_ ready to deal with them.

Hakuba was staring at him, eyes wide.  “You _can’t_ mean that.”

“It’s a _thing_ ,” Kaito said, throat dry.  “A really dangerous thing, and _They_ can’t be allowed to have it, but it’s a thing and not a person.”

He was cursing a blue streak in his head because he was realizing this as it came out of his mouth, and it was messing with his worldview a lot, but more importantly, Hakuba was here and he needed to get through to him so the existential crisis would have to _wait_.

“It’s the reason we became KID,” Hakuba said.  “And I never found it.  You still have a chance.  So take it.  And forget about me.”

“Why are you so convinced I’m just going to do that?” Kaito asked.  “If you’re really the same person as me, you’ve never managed to give up on anyone, not _once_.  Why would I be able to do what you can’t?”

“Kuroba _-kun_ , you can do so much I can’t,” Hakuba said, sounding absolutely exhausted. “Why not this, too?”

“I don’t know, maybe I could,” Kaito said, steeling himself.  “But I don’t want to.”

“And it takes quite a lot to force Kaitou KID’s hand,” Hakuba said.  His eyes--flickered, that was the best word for it.  For just a second, Hakuba’s focus wasn’t _there_.  “More, certainly, than I would be willing to do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kaito asked, narrowing his eyes.

“I don’t think you really want to know,” Hakuba said airily.  “And I don’t think you’ve really thought this through.  I left without either ID or a great amount of money, and you found me in London.  It’s painfully obvious that I’ve committed fraud and theft.  Do you really think the Tokyo MPD will welcome me back with open arms?”

“Your dad asked me to find you,” Kaito said.  “Not Kuroba Kaito, Kaitou KID.  So, yes, they want you back.  Or at least the most important part does.  No matter what you did.”

“Y-you’re lying,” Hakuba managed, stiffening. “He would _not._ ”

“Do you honestly think I’m enough of an idiot to try to lie straight to the face of someone who knows every single one of my tells?” Kaito asked.

Hakuba laughed, but it was a choked, almost hysterical thing.

“Just--hear me out, please,” Kaito said.  “Let me try to convince you to come home.  You can even try to convince me to stop chasing you, if you want.  But, just, let me _try_ , instead of running away before I can get a word in.”

Hakuba slumped against the bar, staring up at the ceiling like he was expecting answers to drop from it.  Kaito had tried that before too; it never worked.

“Fine,” he said at length.  “We’ll go to wherever you’re staying, and talk.  But no tricks.  The smoke bombs work as well on me as they do on you, and don’t even _think_ of using any borrowed gadgets of Edogawa _-kun_ ’s.”

“Don’t worry, he wouldn’t loan me that stuff,” Kaito said.

Hakuba’s half-smile looked approving.  Kaito thought he should probably be insulted.

More importantly, he thought he should warn Hakuba that Shinichi and Eisuke were probably going to be _at_ the hotel room, and that Heiji was waiting for him in the alley outside the pub--but he thought that, at least, could probably wait until they were out of the crowd and Saguru had less opportunity to bolt.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Heiji wasn’t always the best at reading a situation, so he’d actually asked what the heck was going on when Kaito came out of that last pub in disguise as a street-fashion Goth who’d forgotten the fancy clothes, trailing a tall girl in an updo and a relatively plain outfit.

Then, of course, the “girl” had ground out, “I agreed to talk at where you’re staying.  Unless you’ve been sleeping on the streets, I assume this is not that place,” in Hakuba-freaking-Saguru’s voice, and that was the end of that line of questioning.

“No, we have a hotel room,” Kaito had replied, undaunted.

“I assume Kudou’s here somewhere, too,” Saguru had said, tone flat.  “I hope you aren’t letting him search New Cross Gate alone at night.”

“Don’t worry, Eisuke’s with him,” Kaito had replied, and Heiji just knew he’d said that to get a reaction.  He’d gotten one, too--Hakuba had flinched.

“Gang’s all here,” Heiji had said, grinning.

Hakuba’s responding glare probably killed some stray weeds in the sidewalk.

The gang wasn’t _really_ all there until they made it to the hotel room, though, and that took a little while.  They’d gotten pretty far from where they were staying in their search, and it was well and truly night by the time they made it inside.

When Kaito knocked at the hotel room door, it was opened by an irate Kudou.

“Why didn’t you call?” he demanded, somehow still intimidating from knee height.  “It’s a half-hour past when we agreed to meet back here!”

“We got held up,” Kaito said mildly.

Eisuke came up behind them, and looked at Hakuba carefully.

“That’s another thing!” Kudou snapped.  “You can’t just bring witnesses _here_ ; wasn’t there a coffee shop or something that you could have talked to her in?”

“I bring a girl back to our hotel room and you assume she’s a _witness_?” Kaito asked, laughter mixed into his tone.

“Would you _rather_ I have assumed something else, when I know you’re focused on finding Hakuba right now?” Kudou asked.

“It’s rude to talk about someone like they aren’t here,” Eisuke said flatly, staring straight at Hakuba.

“I wasn’t really expecting the same trick to work on you twice,” Hakuba replied, in his own voice, utterly casual.

Kudou sputtered.  Eisuke _giggled_.

Hakuba smiled, just slightly.  “It’s good to see that you’re well.”

Eisuke didn’t answer right away.  His expression was flat for a few seconds, before turning into something complicated that looked...mostly happy?

“I am, maybe,” he said.  “But remember the dehydration lecture?  You need to give Conan _-kun_ the dehydration lecture.”

Hakuba blinked at him, but made no other response.

“The dehydration lecture?” Heiji asked.  He pretty much _had_ to.

“Kiyoshi was concerned about my fluid intake,” Eisuke said primly, opening the door further.  “Are you coming in or not?”

“Well, I’ve given my word,” Hakuba said with a shrug.  “Though I only agreed to speak with Kuroba, not the entire teenage branch of the Detective Boys.”

Kudou flushed.

“There’s only one room,” Kaito said, shrugging right back.  “Well, unless you count the bathroom--I _guess_ we could lock them in there, but the walls really aren’t that thick, and they’ll be mad when they get out.  Though, speaking of bathrooms…”

Hakuba regarded him evenly.  “I suppose it would probably make everyone more comfortable if I changed into something nearer my customary appearance.”  He cocked his head to the side just slightly.  “I don’t suppose I could borrow materials from you?”

“Sure,” Kaito said, sounding weirdly amused.  Maybe he was still picturing the detectives locked in the bathroom.

Heiji gave both of them a bit of a berth as they filed into the room, just in case.  Kaito fished a bag and a bundle of clothes out of his luggage and handed them to Hakuba, who went into the bathroom.

The moment the door closed, Kudou turned to Kaito, wide-eyed.  “ _What do we do now_?” he hissed.

“Let me handle this,” Kaito said, and the voice, the body language, all of it, was 100% KID.  His shoulders were squared, his face was blank, his voice was deeper and his pronunciation different.  All within a second; it was somewhere between scary and impressive.

“And if you screw it up?” Kudou asked quietly.

“Honestly, Kudou _-san,_ ” Eisuke said, poking Kudou’s wristwatch.

“Actually, I, ah, promised I wouldn’t use that,” Kaito said carefully.

It was almost creepy when both Eisuke and Shinichi started grinning at the same time.

 _Kaito promised, Kudou didn’t,_ might as well have been written across their faces.

“Look, I can handle this,” Kaito said.  “Just...let me talk to him. I know you’re curious, and you’ve helped so far, so it’s not like I can ask you to leave...but there’s stuff here that you don’t understand and I can’t explain, so…”

“I’m not going to promise not to talk,” Kudou said.  “I won’t be able to keep a promise like that.  But this was your case in the first place, so letting you take the lead is reasonable.”

Kaito looked chagrined.  “You know, that’s really all I probably should have expected.”

“From him, it really is a concession,” Eisuke said.  “You wouldn’t be any better, would you?”

Kaito shook his head.  “I guess not?”

“Am I interrupting?” Hakuba asked, having emerged from the bathroom.

He was wearing a rumpled button-up shirt and jeans, now, and he looked...mostly like himself.  It wasn’t like Heiji saw him all the time before he’d run off, but he had a basic mental image of Hakuba, and this mostly fit it.  Well, except for the hair.  The updo from the female disguise had definitely been a wig, and without it, Hakuba’s hair was short, black and near Heiji’s length, but without the bangs or the sections of shorter hair near the nape of the neck--it looked more like a buzz cut that had grown out than a true haircut.

“Nah, not really,” Kaito said smoothly.  “So, sit down.  If we’re gonna talk, I’d rather not do it standing around awkwardly.”

“I’d rather not be here longer than necessary,” Hakuba countered.

“Oh my gosh, everything _has_ to be a battle with you,” Kaito said.  “Sit.  Please.  You’re making me uncomfortable just looking at you.”

Heiji, not wanting to cause problems, sat down on the couch, and dragged Kudou along with him.  Eisuke claimed the desk chair.  Hakuba looked around, realized he was outnumbered, and sighed.

As Hakuba reluctantly sat down on one of the beds, and Kaito sat down facing him on the other, Heiji realized that Kaito kind of had a point about how uneasy Hakuba looked. There was a stiffness to the way Hakuba was holding himself, like he was bracing for something.  It reminded Heiji of a lot of things, but most of all Kaito, at the moments when one of them pushed too far.  That was...it felt significant, but Heiji wasn’t sure how, so he filed it away.

Kaito leaned forward, hands on his knees.  “So, first things first: _Mom didn’t tell anyone but me_.”

Hakuba’s frown thinned.  “And you told the detectives, of course.”

“Nope,” Kaito said cheerily, bouncing just a bit on the bed.  “I’ve been talking around it, for reasons of your privacy. They know you know how to do all the things that KID does, and that you trained with Kuroba Toichi, but I’ve pretty much just not been explaining stuff and frustrating the heck out of them.”  He paused.  “Hey, Kudou _-san_ , you wanted to talk, confirm that for me?”

“He hasn’t explained any of it, whatever _it_ is,” Kudou said, glaring up from under his bangs.  “Or given us near enough clues to deduce things ourselves.”

Hakuba blinked, leaning back, arms crossed over his chest.  “And you find that acceptable?”

“He asked us to help, it’s his terms,” Heiji said.  “Won’t deny that we’ve been askin’ him whether the secrets are really worth the risk o’ not findin’ ya at all, but he’s been insistin’.”

“So, in the end, I overreacted,” Hakuba said, sounding almost resigned.  “But something would have happened, eventually.  I think it’s for the best this way.”

“Which way?” Kaito asked, hands balling into fists near his hips.  “Don’t you see?  If you ran away because--because of that, no one knows, so it’s fine, you can come back!”

“No one knows _that_ , but there’s still the matter of my having run off in the first place,” Hakuba said.  “I’m sure my adoption is now a matter of police gossip?”

“Well, yeah, but--”

“If I were to return I’d be bringing with me a newfound reputation that would likely damage Father’s, and a lot of unwanted attention from those people who dress in black,” Hakuba said.  “I don’t wish to do either of those things.”

“They don’t know it’s you, not yet,” Kudou said.

Hakuba glanced at him, eyes sharp.

“You seem to know enough to ferret _Them_ out in every city you go to,” Kudou said.  “I assume you know who Vermouth is, too?”

“What does she have to do with any of this, and how do you even know her name?” Hakuba demanded, a distinct, almost hysterical edge to his voice.

“She owes me, and I managed to trick a little information out her,” Kudou said.

“Owes you _what_?” Hakuba said.  “She’s--according to everything I’ve heard, that woman doesn’t _care_ about people--”

“Ran and I saved her life once,” Shinichi said.  “Look, the point is, they haven’t figured you out, _yet_ , which means your best shot at surviving this is laying low for a while.  And going back to Tokyo, back to being Hakuba, that _would_ be a way to do that, right?”

“And if they trace things back to me once I’m there?” Hakuba asked.  “That puts _you_ in danger, Kudou _-san_.”

“In Tokyo, we at least have a chance at protecting you,” Kudou replied, jaw set.

“You have a chance of endangering yourselves, you mean,” Hakuba snapped.  “As you likely already have.  I’ve no doubt that the four of you are the topic of a great deal of police gossip at the moment; if anyone becomes too curious…”

Kaito frowned. “We made our choices--”

“And they were foolish!” Hakuba replied.

“The Superintendent-General asked _KID_ to find you, _dang it_ ,” Kaito half-growled.  “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“That he’s also had a lapse of judgement, one that could cost him his career if exposed, and on my account!” Hakuba half-spat.

“And the fact that he might miss you and be worried about you, worried enough for that to be worth it--that never occurred to you?” Eisuke asked quietly.

“If he felt that way at some point, he’s mistaken,” Hakuba said, hands balled up into fists on his knees.  “I don’t belong here; I’m not _needed_ , there’s no reason--”

 _Don’t belong here?_ Heiji echoed mentally.   _Where’s ‘here,’ to him?  He can’t mean England; if he meant England he’d be admittin’ we were right.  An’ if he meant Japan, wouldn’t he say ‘there’?_

“Not needed?” Kaito echoed aloud.  “You’re kidding, right?  The Superintendent-General’s frantic, Inspector Nakamori’s moved from worried to pissed off that he’s not in charge of the investigation anymore, and apparently there’s some guy in Nagano so set on finding you he nearly wrung all of Kudou’s secrets out of Hattori _-kun_.”

Hakuba sat back, blinking, as though the air had been knocked out of him.

“And--and--do you even have _any_ idea what you’ve done to Aoko?” Kaito continued, gesturing a bit wildly.

It was a mistake.  Heiji could see it in the way Hakuba drew himself up, back _seiza_ -straight, smile too-wide and eyes lit in a way that made Heiji think of KID during that first conversation, promising to smash a certain jewel.

“You are the one who has no idea what I’ve done to Aoko,” Hakuba said, grim laughter lurking around the edges of the words.  “ _I_ know very well.”

“What--” Kaito broke off.  “Oh, this is some sort of cryptic reference, isn’t it?  Well, I can’t ask you to explain under these circumstances, can I?”

“No, I suppose you can’t,” Saguru said, and his expression was still sharp in a way that made Heiji wary.  “So perhaps you should just accept that you aren’t meant to understand certain things, and then _leave them alone_.”

“I can’t do that,” Kaito said fiercely.

“If you insist, well, then know this much--you don’t _want_ me to come back,” Hakuba said.  “It will end in disaster.  It did last time, and it will--”

“I _know_ that!” Kaito interrupted.  “I talked to Akako,” he said, more quietly.  “About how she’d do it.  About what probably happened, to get you here.  But I think, if things have been different so far, they can _keep_ being different.  Not just for me.  For you, too.”

Well, Heiji was officially lost, and Kudou didn’t seem to be doing any better, by the look on his face.  Eisuke was harder to read, but probably just as confused.

“What the _h***_ were you doing talking to her?” Hakuba demanded--more loudly than he’d asked about Vermouth, Heiji noted.

“She’s doing better now, she hasn’t tried anything, and you know what--I’ll tell you what I told Mom,” Kaito said.  “I’ll take some risks if it means we can get you home safely.”

“There are risks, and then there’s Koizumi _-san_ ,” Hakuba said.  “You’re--this is mad.  You’re going to get yourself _killed_ on my account and I won’t allow it.”

“She’s not gonna kill me,” Kaito said.  “She’s had chances and she didn’t take them; I’m fine.”

“You’re arrogant,” Hakuba replied, and his voice was...slipping.  The English accent was fading and something else was slipping past, and the timbre was fluctuating, word by word.  It was _weird_ to listen to.  “Screwing around like this, it’s how--” He broke off, turning his head away.

Kaito’s eyes hardened.  “I’m not screwing around.  I know what I’m doing.”

“No, you don’t,” Hakuba said, meeting Kaito’s eyes again, and he didn’t even _sound_ like himself anymore.  “You were supposed to be _better_ than this.”

“Are you here to decide whether I’m capable, too?” Kaito asked, frowning dangerously, shoulders squared.  “Because I’m getting really _d***_ tired of random testing.”

“I would never,” Hakuba said, drawing himself up, and the movement, the pattern of it, looked _familiar_ , though Heiji couldn’t place it.  “I couldn’t judge you even if I wanted to.  But if you aren’t good enough, you could _die_ , don’t you get that?”

He _really_ didn’t sound like Hakuba anymore, not even a little bit.  His voice was still deep, but not as deep, and it had a distinct Tokyo accent with only traces of British pronunciation around the edges.  His body language wasn’t really Hakuba’s either--gone were the careful posture and stiff movements, in favor of a mixture of careful stillness and fluid movement that pulled at Heiji’s memory.

“If you’re so concerned, then come back to Tokyo with me and keep me out of trouble!” Kaito snapped, leaning forward.

“It would take an army,” Hakuba sighed, slumping just a bit.  “And you’re asking the wrong person.  I’m no one’s idea of a bodyguard.”

“I don’t want you to be a bodyguard, I’m just beginning to think that’s the only way you’ll actually come,” Kaito replied, sounding just as tired.

And pretty much the same, which was _freakin’ suspicious_.  Heiji looked at them for a few more seconds, scanning the way their tired slumps mirrored one another, and then applied his understanding of how Kaito’s body language worked to the last minute or so of Hakuba bristling.    Things at once made a lot more sense, and absolutely no sense at all.

 _Are they the same person, or what?_ He wondered, frustrated.

“That would explain some things, yeah,” Eisuke said thoughtfully.

Heiji looked up, startled, and realized he had said that last thing out loud.  And that everyone was staring at him.  Including Hakuba, whose expression was _definitely_ one of Kaito’s, specifically the cornered-and-freaked-out one.

“He was probably just talking to himself,” Kaito said, quickly, eyes darting back to Hakuba.  There was a hint of nervousness to the set of his shoulders.  “Don’t worry about it.”

Hakuba was clearly worried, though--he was still as a statue, and his eyes were saucer-wide.

And Heiji was starting to put things together.   _If ya ignore the fact that it makes no sense fer them ta be the same person, it makes a lotta other things make sense,_ he thought slowly _._   _How he got trained by Kaito’s Dad and knows everything he does, how he knows who Kudou is...and that time I mixed up KID and Hakuba and it freaked Kaito out.  No, more than that—the mixup at Deptford Station, when they thought Kaito was Hakuba—that has something to do with it.  Does he_ look _like Kaito, out of disguise?  And what about Officer Cassidy, and how she kept looking at Kaito when we were talking about Hakuba’s blood samples?  It musta been_ Kaito’s _blood that Phantom Lady sent, and they both knew it, and that’s why she was being so dang weird about everythin’._

_Yeah, it seems nuts, but I’m actually onto something, aren’t I?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for discussion of knocking someone out involuntarily (I mean, this is DCMK, but I’m covering my bases here), discussion of character death and some pretty serious self-esteem issues being expressed through dialogue.
> 
> There’s a drawing in the ["riddle in reverse”](http://ninthfeather.tumblr.com/tagged/riddle-in-reverse) tag on my tumblr that is pretty much what Hakuba looks like right now. It’s not on that masterlist page because it’s not art of the fic, but the artist said I could put it in the tag so you guys could have it as a reference. 
> 
> Okay, next chapter is the moment a lot of you have been waiting for. So, time to get your speculation in--what exactly happened in the other timeline? I’m interested to hear what you guys think, and whether you’re enjoying the fic!


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter has been fully and completely betaed by the incomparable miladyRanger, but it’s being posted by an author who’s slightly out of it due to a migraine earlier, so if there’s a posting mistake, please let me know. 
> 
> This is definitely a chapter to check those warnings in the end notes.

“I was jus’ talking to myself, but now I’m talkin’ to the two of you,” Heiji said.  “You really are the same person, aren’t ya?  Or, somethin’ like it.” He paused, as a realization hit.  “Oh, _f***_ , there’s magic involved here, someplace, ain’t there?”

“Hold on, Hattori,” Shinichi murmured.  “Rumored immortality-granting gems and mermaid legends are one thing.  But two of the same person would be…” he trailed off, but his shoulders were hunched in uncertainty, not set in confidence.

Heiji decided to take a chance.  “It fits the evidence, though, don’t it?”

“It does,” Shinichi allowed, slumping outright. “I won’t say I’ve eliminated the impossible yet, but I know of more improbable truths.”

“Much more improbable truths,” Eisuke agreed quietly, gaze intense.

Hakuba let out a small laugh.  “Do you know, half my reason for not saying anything in all this time was that I was quite certain I wouldn’t be believed?”

“Well, I don’t think that’s quite the case anymore, Hakuba _-san_ ,” Kaito said.  “So…it’s up to you.  But you know, if you wanted to be a little honest about things, I think this is safe company.”

“Hardly,” Hakuba said, and he was back to his own voice again.  And there was a difference, an easily noticeable one, now that Hakuba was listening for it.  “KID’s secrets are…”

Kaito took a deep breath, looking as cautious as he had when first speaking to Hakuba.  There was something tentative, almost gentle, to his body language.  “They know.”

Hakuba blinked, then jerked backward.

“Certainly you can’t mean—”

“I do,” Kaito said, grin a bit crooked.  “They know my name, they know why I’m KID—pretty much the only thing that’s off limits is Mom, because, um, the whole Corbeau thing.”

Hakuba scowled fiercely.  “Ah, _that_.”

“They weren’t fans, either, for what it’s worth!” Kaito said quickly.  “And—and _I_ didn’t tell them!   _Tantei-kun_ figured me out and then waited to tell me until he thought I wouldn’t panic.  And they _all_ said they wouldn’t get me arrested.  Because they get it.  What doing that would mean.”

Hakuba glanced around the room, wide-eyed.  “Is he being accurate?  I know he wouldn’t lie deliberately, not about this, but sometimes memory distorts…”

“That’s about right,” Heiji said.  “I think Kudou mighta been waitin’ for a good time ta get a funny reaction, honestly, but part o’ that was makin’ sure that when he said it, he’d only _startle_ Kuroba _-han,_ not scare th’ life outta ‘im.”

The smirk that slid across Shinichi’s face was better than verbal confirmation.

“So they know,” Hakuba said to Kaito.  “That’s an incredible risk.  You could have lied your way out of it, I’m certain.”

“Maybe,” Kaito said.  “But I didn’t really want to.  I…I can’t really say ‘trust,’ that’s an exaggeration, but…I know them, well enough to know what they’ll do.”

“And that’s as close as we get to trust, isn’t it?” Hakuba said, in a tone somewhere between laughing and bitter.

It took Heiji a few seconds to register that “we.”

“So, you’re not going to yell that I’ve been foolish again?” Kaito asked, grin crooked.

“I want to, but it might be time to admit I’ve been projecting a bit,” Hakuba said, mirroring the expression.  “Projecting is…a bit easy, given circumstances.”

Heiji wanted more than anything to ask what, exactly, those circumstances _were_ , but he could see it would be a mistake.  Hakuba was…shaky, that was the best word for it, wavering between the body language Heiji knew as his and the set Heiji thought of as Kaito’s.  This wasn’t the time to push.

“So, they know about me, and you’ve all but admitted to your circumstances,” Kaito said.  “Can we speak freely?”

“This isn’t a promise to come back with you,” Hakuba said.  “I haven’t made that promise, and I’m not doing so now.”

“We’ll get to that,” Kaito said, grinning.  “For now, can we at least discuss it with _everything_ on the table?”

“Very well,” Hakuba said.  “Shall I re-introduce myself?” He turned away from Kaito, to face Heiji, Shinichi and Eisuke.  “I haven’t made use of the name Kuroba Kaito in some four years, but it _was_ once given to me.  As Hattori _-san_ suspects, there was an incident involving witchcraft which led to my presence here.”

“Here?” Heiji asked, not quite able to keep a lid on his curiosity anymore.  “Ya keep talking about ‘here’ but I dunno what ya mean by it.  Are ya talkin’ about London or what?”

“Well, I suppose ‘now’ would be the correct term, but I think some imprecision is allowable, given circumstances,” Hakuba said calmly.  “Time, rather than space, is the axis I’ve moved across.”

“You’re talking about time travel,” Eisuke said quietly.

“I am,” Hakuba replied.

“What the—no,” Shinichi said. “You can’t really expect us to believe that—”

“It’s true,” Kaito interrupted.  “It’s how he’s been helping out at heists.  There’s been a few times that, no matter how good his intel was, he just shouldn’t have been able to know what he knew.  But he did, somehow, and this is why.”

“But—that would mean _this_ is the good timeline,” Shinichi said, visibly agitated now.

“Think of how the bad timeline must have been,” Hakuba said, and though Heiji thought he might have meant that as a joke, it was ruined by the hint of real distress showing through in his eyes.

“Better yet, don’t,” Kaito said, quietly.

Hakuba’s eyes jerked to him in an instant.  “What did you figure out?”

“I’m pretty sure you were there when Shinichi got poisoned,” Kaito said.  “I have a guess about why that I could live forever without having confirmed.”

Hakuba just exhaled slowly.  “I thought I had taken all their weapons.  I thought the pill case had _pills_ in it, like a pill case bloody well _ought_ to.”

Shinichi stared at him, slack-jawed.

“I panicked when they noticed him; I hadn’t guessed they would improvise a weapon, but I was hoping they’d just leave him with blunt force trauma,” Hakuba continued.  “More the fool I.  I thought they _had_ killed him, _again_ , and—”

“Again?” Shinichi said, and the words sounded caught in his throat.

Hakuba shrugged a bit helplessly.  “I met you once, in my timeline—at the Clocktower.  After that, I heard Ao—a friend reading an article about your death, after they’d dredged your body up from the river.  You’d gone missing in Tropical Land weeks before. The coroner said you’d been shot through the skull.”

Heiji cursed as he watched Kudou go pale.

“I’ve said again and again that it wasn’t an appealing timeline,” Hakuba said, almost dispassionately.  “No one listens.”  He turned to Heiji. “Before anyone else asks, I haven’t the faintest idea what happened to you or Eisuke.  You never came to heists, and I’d never met Eisuke at all before America.”

Heiji had some uncomfortable suspicions, himself, but he didn’t want to air them, not with Shinichi still so wide-eyed and unsteady-looking.  Carefully, he wrapped an arm around his friend’s back and pulled him in just a bit closer to his side.  It wasn’t an easy thing, after all, contemplating how near your brushes with death had been.

“So, no Kudou,” he said aloud.  “That does sound like a crap timeline.”

“It was, indeed,” Hakuba said tightly.  He’d dug into his pocket for his pocket watch and was running his fingers across the edge of the lid.  “I was glad to leave it—”

Kaito jerked upright.  “Excuse me, _what_?”

“I said, I was glad to—”

“I heard you,” Kaito said, eyes narrowed.  “But I told you earlier.  Akako told me what would have had to happen for you to get here.  The spell she told me about—you would have had to _die_ for that to work—and you’re telling me you’re _glad_?”

Hakuba drew himself up, pocket watch gripped in a white-knuckled-hand.  “I was all but the _last_ to go, Kuroba _-san_. Jii _-san_ , Akako, Inspector Nakamori, _Aoko_ —I lost them all, and all because of KID. Because _I_ was KID.  What else could a second chance be, but a blessing?”

Distantly, Heiji was aware of a choked feeling in his throat, but his thoughts were too clogged with horror at what he was hearing to really register it.

Kaito stared at him, eyes wide.  “We got them killed?”

“ _I_ did,” Hakuba corrected.  “You’ve grown past such foolishness already, I made sure of it.  Kudou and I presenting a nonlethal challenge trained you to take other threats more seriously.  So you were ready for Nightmare.”

“No I wasn’t!” Kaito protested.  “I let him fall!”

Heiji sucked in a breath.   _Dude, you did not just confess to manslaughter in front of a bunch of homicide detectives._

“You couldn’t hold him up one-handed, and he wouldn’t grab your other hand,” Hakuba said.  “I still blame myself as well, but no court would convict either of us.  Don’t mislead the detectives; it’s unkind.”

Heiji glared at him.  He seemed not to notice.

“You succeeded not in saving Jack Connery, but in taking him seriously from the beginning,” Hakuba said, voice all but flat and eyes distant.  “I, on the other hand, laughed in the face of his threats until he carried the first of them out.”

“But—he threatened to kill—” Kaito broke off.   “ _No._ ”

“Things spiraled out from that point,” Hakuba said, tone still unsettlingly flat.  “Akako attempted to slow the approaching disaster, and died in the attempt.  Inspector Nakamori was pushed out of the Task Force and asked too many questions about his replacements, Aoko saw his ‘accident’ for what it was and refused to let it lie.”

Kaito was rigid, his face absolutely bloodless and his eyes wide.

“And that, you see, is what I would have had you and your mother not know, when I asked her not to pursue the matter,” Hakuba said.  “And you were quite right before, I _don’t_ approve of her.  My mother showed up as Corbeau as a last resort, to get me out of Ekoda before those wearing black in the police killed me, as well.  Yours wore that face for a _test_. Something went wrong, between the timelines.”

“She still left ya alone when you were a kid, though, right?” Heiji asked.

Kudou elbowed him, hard.

“Inspector Nakamori looked after me sufficiently,” Hakuba said, drawing himself up.  “It wasn’t good of her, I can see that now, but it wasn’t on the same scale as the way she planned to use Corbeau against Kaito.”

“Against that Kaito, you mean?” Eisuke said, pointing at him.

“Wow, rude,” Kaito said, a little shakily.

Eisuke flushed. “I guess I’ve been in America too long; I’m picking up the customs.”

The tension broke, just a little, and Kaito actually smiled slightly.

“I don’t really think of myself as Kaito anymore,” Hakuba said.  He glanced at Kaito.  “That is Kaito.  I’m Saguru.  It was odd at first, but this is his timeline, and I’ve been playing this part for a while.”

“But now you’ve given up being Saguru as well,” Kaito reminded.

“I suppose I have.”

“What will you do now, if you don’t go back?” Eisuke asked.

“Continue pursuing the group who wear black, I suppose,” Hakuba said.

“They’ll kill you,” Kudou warned.  “They’re looking for you, and as soon as they find you…”

“I’ll be careful,” Hakuba said.

“You’ll do better with allies,” Heiji said.

Hakuba twitched, just a bit, his expression skeptical.  “You don’t even _like_ me.”

“How many people do I gotta explain th’ diff’rence between dislikin’ someone an’ wantin’ ‘em dead to?” Heiji asked.  “‘Sides, did it ever occur ta ya that all o’ us in this room want the same thing an’ it might be easier if we were all in contact ta try for it together?”  He sighed.  “An’ you’re s’posed to be a genius.”  

Kaito glared at him.

 _Whoops_.  “No offense, Kaito,” he said quickly.  “Time travel prob’ly knocked off some IQ points, is all.”

Kudou’s elbow jabbed into his ribs hard enough to _hurt_.

“Cut it out, Kudou!” he snapped, rubbing his ribs. “That actually hurt!”

Kudou didn’t look too repentant.

There was a faint snickering sound, and when Heiji looked up, Kaito was staring at Hakuba, who was actually _smiling_ , however faintly.

“Oi, it’s not that funny,” Hattori muttered, crossing his arms and slumping back on the couch.

“He did have a point,” Kudou pressed.

“You don’t really need my help,” Hakuba said.  “You’ll manage well enough on your own.”

“I think the concern here is that _you_ won’t,” Eisuke said.  “Or, at least, that if you don’t, we won’t find out, and neither will anyone else who cares about you.”

Hakuba sighed.  “There wasn’t supposed to _be_ anyone else who cared about me,” he said, not quite meeting anyone’s eyes.  “I wasn’t supposed to be this involved.  The plan was to get acquainted with, perhaps even befriend, the Japanese police superintendent-general, not to be _adopted_ by him--but he offered, and it would have been _suspicious_ to say no, particularly when I intended to move to Japan regardless.  And I may have joined the Task Force, but I was hardly Inspector Nakamori’s ideal subordinate.  I deliberately made your life difficult, antagonized Aoko in doing so, and barely _spoke_ to anyone else at school. And yet somehow--”

“You’re a good person under the arrogant jerk act and they recognized that,” Kaito said.

“Isn’t that a bit self-serving?” Hakuba asked.

“You’re the one who said we were different people,” Kaito replied.  

Hakuba slumped slightly.  “I am, aren’t I?”

Heiji was struck, suddenly, by how tired Hakuba looked when he wasn’t strung tight with defensive anger or projecting a facade with every bit of willpower he could muster.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.  “Are you okay?” Eisuke asked, almost gently.

“I am fine,” Hakuba said, sitting back up.

“So, how long _has_ it been since you last slept?” Kudou asked, clearly not convinced.

Hakuba didn’t meet his eyes.

“Hakuba _-san_?” Kaito prompted.

“You won’t approve,” Hakuba said quietly.

Kaito frowned.  “Are you doing the pre-heist thing where we basically just work now and do everything else later, but _all the time_?”

Hakuba flinched, then regarded him blankly.

 _That’s as good as a yes, from either of them_ , Heiji thought.

“When was the last time you _ate_?” Kaito asked, looking alarmed.

Hakuba opened his mouth.

“Full meals, only,” Kaito amended.

Hakuba shut his mouth and looked mildly alarmed himself.

“Is the answer to that question going to involve me?” Eisuke asked.

“We’re going to have to discuss precisely what constitutes a meal,” Hakuba said.

“You’re staying here tonight, getting dinner, and sleeping, or Kudou _-san_ darts you, and you at least sleep,” Kaito declared.

“You promised--” Hakuba started, then broke off.  “And Kudou didn’t.  I see.”

Kudou gave him the smile that most people only saw a few minutes before the police snapped the handcuffs closed.  It was a little intimidating on a reasonably tall teenager but unsettling as all heck on a seeming first grader.

“I promised not to force you to go back to Japan,” Kaito said, a little more gently.  “But you _need_ to sleep.  And clearly you’re not doing so on your own.  If Kudou darts you, you’ll wake up here.”

“I really shouldn’t underestimate you four, should I?” Hakuba asked.

“No, you shouldn’t,” Eisuke said.  “While we’re forcibly taking care of him, should someone check the bandages on that injury we used to find him?”

“Did you find me with blood samples?” Hakuba asked, sounding alarmed.

“Don’t worry, Mom’s got a poker buddy who’s a forensic tech and also very confused, now,” Kaito said.  “So, bandages?”

“I bandaged it,” Hakuba said defensively.

“Have you changed the bandage, since then?” Kudou pressed.  “It’s been days.”

Hakuba didn’t even bother answering.

Eisuke huffed out a laugh.  “This time I’m actually physically present, so I’ll get the first aid kit.”

“You actually brought one?” Kaito asked.

Eisuke frowned at him.  “You didn’t?”

Hakuba actually laughed.  “He knows you well enough.”

“So, what exactly _did_ you hurt?” Eisuke asked, getting up to rummage through his suitcase.

“Just my forearm, really,” Hakuba said.  “I take it you know the circumstances?”

“You know we investigated,” Kudou replied.

“Hansen went through the window first--I did _not_ push him, he lost his balance while he had me in a partial hold, and I didn’t really have time to get out of it before we were both through the glass,” Hakuba said.  “So he caught most of it, but I managed to break a bit of glass he hadn’t shattered with my extended arm.  My sleeve was shredded, and my arm came out a bit the worse as well.”

“So, we can probably get away with just gauze…” Eisuke murmured to himself.  “That’s good, I left the _big_ first aid kit in Virginia…”

“Do we _want_ to know what’s in the big first aid kit?” Kudou asked, half-amused.

“While Eisuke takes care of that, how about Kudou and I get food?” Heiji suggested.  

He caught Kaito’s eye.   _You’re on guard_ , he all but said aloud.

Kaito nodded, face serious.  Then, he grinned.  “Can you just get me what you got last night? It looked good.”

Heiji shrugged.  “Easy enough.”

“Remember the burger I thought looked too big last night?” Eisuke asked.  “It does not look too big now.”

“Okay,” Heiji said. “Kudou and I can figure things out when we get there.  Hakuba?”

Hakuba blinked.  “Ah...I’m fine with anything, really.  Except...ah…”

“They know about that, too,” Kaito said.

“I’ve desensitized myself somewhat,” Hakuba said.  “But eating it is…”

Both of them shuddered at the same time, in almost exactly the same way.  It was a little fascinating, but also kinda creepy.

“Okay, none of the thing Kaito doesn’t like,” Heiji said.  “But really.  Pick something.”

Hakuba just shrugged.

Eisuke glanced at him.  “Okay, between soup, or a sandwich?”

“Soup, I think,” Hakuba said. “But you really don’t have to--”

“You worried the _heck_ out of us, let us give you food,” Kaito said.  “Please.  Just--”

Hakuba shrunk into himself, just a bit.  “That certainly wasn’t what I--”

“Soup, right?” Heiji interrupted.   _Sendin’ him on a guilt spiral ain’t gonna accomplish anythin’._

“If you’re insisting,” Hakuba said, relaxing just a touch.

“We are,” Heiji said, getting up.  “We’ll be back soon.  No one order takeout while we’re gone.”

It was a dumb joke, and no one laughed  But he’d tried, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: portrayal of heavy-duty self-worth issues and maladaptive guilt. Discussion of past major character death in some detail, including very specific methods in one case (Shinichi). Expression of something close enough to a suicidal thought to have the potential to be upsetting, though it is not one, precisely (Starts at “I heard you” ends with “blessing,” if you’re avoiding). Discussion of poor self-care related to not eating and sleeping enough. Generally, heavy implications that a character is in a poor state of mental health. Also, brief discussion of a phobia.
> 
> Pointing at someone the way Eisuke does in this chapter would be pretty rude in Japanese culture. Actually, it would also be rude among peers in America, but Eisuke doesn’t have a lot of casual peer interactions with Americans, so he’s basing things off of school, where the teachers point at people all the time. Shinichi, whose parents live in America and who probably gave him a crash course in the culture before he visited them in New York, is already planning to take him aside at some point before he goes back to the States, so he doesn’t embarrass himself. 
> 
> Now, for the list of people who guessed things about Hakuba correctly--oddly enough, all the guesses relevant to this chapter (correct and not) came from AO3. First, donahermurphy guessed that Heiji would notice the similarities between Kaito and Hakuba. Sarah guessed that Aoko was dead, and that Saguru’s reason for always treating Conan as a detective was that he knew what had happened to him in the other timeline. Also, shinyivyleaves guessed that something bad happened to Aoko, the Task Force found out KID’s identity, and Task Force members got hurt (well, one did, close enough). Finally, Scedasticity guessed that Saguru tried to prevent Shinichi’s poisoning. You all get your choice of internet bread pudding or internet white chocolate fudge as a prize.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I am tired, and I have been sick a lot recently, and this chapter was written in much more of a hurry than it ought to have been as a result. If not for miladyRanger, there is a decent chance I wouldn’t even have tried to post tonight. But she did last-minute edits and we are all saved.
> 
> On naming: First, it’s come to my attention that I haven’t been consistent with Oficer Hashimoto’s relationship to Superintendent-General Hakuba in this series. I have settled on him being Shiyomi’s nephew (and thus Tsuyoshi’s by marriage), and will, when I have time, edit the series for consistency to reflect that decision. Also, as it is a bit relevant, I refer to the boss of the organization as “that person” in dialogue and narration, rather than “anokata” or “the boss.” If you are curious about this choice, ask me in a review; I like talking about translation choices! 
> 
> Also, for those of you who don’t visit my tumblr, Riddle in Reverse turned a year old, and I put what I’d do to celebrate up to a vote. The tumblr people asked for a short thing from Saguru’s POV. I let my beta choose what I’d write from his POV, and she chose Sunset Mansion. So please look forward to that (but also be prepared to wait; I’m currently having enough trouble keeping up with the fic because Real Life is A Challenge right now).
> 
> As always, warnings are in the end notes

Eisuke knew he had to be the first one to walk into the bathroom, because Hakuba, as keyed up as he was right now, would not appreciate anyone following him into a closed space, especially not with something big and bulky enough to use as a weapon in their hands.

The first aid kit would be a really terrible weapon, actually, but Eisuke was pretty sure Hakuba’s paranoia had never gotten that memo.

Eisuke had expected his Kaito-and-Shinichi-inspired trip through internet resources on trauma and PTSD to become useful eventually, but this wasn’t really how or when he’d expected it to come up.  Then again, nothing in his life was how he expected it, lately.

He couldn’t help noticing all the ways Hakuba was like Kiyoshi--or all the ways she’d been like him, more accurately.  In his facial expressions, especially--the tired little half-grins, the quirked eyebrows, and that patient, penetrating stare that Eisuke had learned to be properly wary of when it came from Kiyoshi.  There were other things in his posture and movements that were familiar, too.  It was strange; he knew Hakuba, and yet he didn’t at all.

He set the first aid kit on the rim of the sink and gestured for Hakuba to sit down on the edge of the bathtub. Hakuba kept his back to the wall the whole way there; it was honestly worrying.

“Can you uncover the wound without taking off your shirt?” Eisuke asked, keeping his tone brisk.

_This doesn’t have to be awkward_ , he told himself.

Hakuba visibly stiffened.  “Of course.”  He unbuttoned and started rolling up his sleeve, eyes on the floor.  

“I could do this myself,” he said quietly.

“Maybe, but not well,” Eisuke replied.  “Medical tape is tricky one-handed, isn’t it?”

Hakuba winced, and held up his arm to inspect his own bandaging job.  “I suppose my handiwork does leave something to be desired.”

To be fair, Eisuke had made worse messes of gauze pads, but he’d usually thrown them out and tried again. Hakuba had actually torn the top layer of gauze in a few places while  trying to get the pad into position and taped.  The tape only sometimes managed to be both on skin and gauze; most of the time it was only on one or the other.  Really, it was kind of remarkable that it had stayed in place to soak up enough blood that the stains were showing through.

“Do you want to take it off yourself?” Eisuke asked.

Hakuba winced.  “I think I had better.” He tugged at one of the corners, then ripped it off.  His expression never changed.

Right. Kaito’s weird _my-response-to-certain-stressors-is-to-stop-emoting_ thing.  

The collection of variously-sized gashes underneath looked a bit red and somewhat irritated, but to Eisuke’s relatively untrained eye, it didn’t actually look infected.

_Best to take precautions, though_ , he thought.

“Why don’t you toss that, and I’ll disinfect those again, just in case,” Eisuke said, getting down the first-aid kit and rummaging for the disinfectant wipes.

He registered the sound of something landing in the trashcan as he found the wipes and opened one.

“You ready?” he asked Hakuba.

Hakuba nodded, and Eisuke ran the wipe across the cuts.  Hakuba’s expression didn’t even shift slightly.

Eisuke just barely kept himself from sighing out loud as he pulled a gauze pad and the roll of medical tape out of the kit.  He was halfway through tearing the packaging on the gauze pad open when Hakuba spoke again.

“Kiyoshi wasn’t a trick,” Hakuba said softly.  “Or...she wasn’t meant to be.”

Eisuke took a deep breath. “I know that. I’ve _known_ that.”

Hakuba blinked.  “You…”

“If you’d just been playing head games, you’d have made sure you were able to see my reaction,” Eisuke said, getting out the antibiotic cream.  “But that wasn’t it, was it?  We both mistook each other for complete civilians.”

Eisuke spent a few seconds spreading antibiotic cream over the gauze, trying to ignore the heavy silence that had fallen, then prodded, “Am I right?”

“Yes,” Hakuba admitted.

“Well, then,” Eisuke said.  “In a way, what you did was incredibly brave.  You were running from us, pursuing _Them_...and yet somehow you found time and energy to put toward taking care of a neighbor boy you had no obligation to and would likely never see again.”

“You seemed lonely,” Hakuba said.  “And you did injure yourself on my property, after all.”

“You know me well enough to know I can injure myself on _anything,_ ” Eisuke stressed, pressing the gauze in place.  “This may hurt for just a bit.”

“Thank you for the warning,” Hakuba replied, not even flinching. “And yes, I do know you well enough to be aware of that distressing tendency of yours.”

Eisuke started unwinding the medical tape, feeling just a bit wistful. “I don’t know you nearly as well, though.  I know Kiyoshi, and Kaito, but not you.”

Hakuba ducked his head as Eisuke secured the first strip of medical tape, holding the end in place with his thumb and carefully lining it up with the edge of the gauze.

“Just...add that to your pile of ‘reasons to come back,’ okay?” Eisuke asked.  “I’d like to get to know you.  I’d like to keep talking to you.”

“You’ll be in America,” Hakuba said, still not looking up.

Eisuke ripped off the tape and started fastening down the next side.  “I could videocall you, like I’ve been doing with the others.  Maybe even along with the others.  But if you leave, really leave, you won’t be giving us contact information, will you?”

“You’d use it to track me,” Hakuba said.

“Possibly,” Eisuke allowed.

Silence fell as he finished taping down the gauze.  When he was done, Hakuba held up his arm, again, inspecting it like he had the old set of bandages--probably testing his mobility this time as well.  Eisuke had expected that and had made the tape pretty loose.

“Thank you,” Hakuba said quietly.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Eisuke said.  “If you want to, though, you can take better care of yourself.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t jump straight to ‘go back to Japan’,” Hakuba said.

“That’s emotional blackmail,” Eisuke said, getting up and heading for the bathroom door.  “It’s more Kudou than me.”

Hakuba let out a huff of air that might have been a chuckle.

Eisuke emerged into the larger room just in time for Heiji and Conan to come through the door.

“Food’s here,” Heiji said, dropping a bag of carryout containers and beverages on the table.  He made no move, however, to pass around the food, or even to take his own and begin eating.

Shinichi set a smaller bag on the table beside it, then glanced at Eisuke.

Shinichi, on closer inspection, looked worryingly tired.  It wasn’t that late, even for a little kid, but they’d been walking all day and he’d had a pretty rough time of it the day before, between dehydration and minor injuries.  Besides, the conversation earlier couldn’t have been easy for him to listen to or think about.   And Heiji looked off, too...not exactly tired or stressed, but something of both, maybe.  He’d never really gotten a chance to cool down, after running around with Kaito all day, and he’d taken the lead when it came to unravelling Saguru’s circumstances.  Maybe everything had just built up to a point where he wasn’t able to put up with it.

So, it was up to Eisuke now.

He herded everyone towards seats and distributed the food and drinks. To his dismay, _everyone_ needed to be prodded into eating.  But at least they were actually listening to him.  Ultimately, Saguru was the first to snap at him.

“It’s not as if I’ve been starving!”

“You said you weren’t eating,” Kaito said flatly.

“It’s like you said--like heist preparation--I just-- _forget_ ,” Saguru said. “I do _have_ food.”

“You didn’t leave with any money,” Shinichi pointed out.  “It’s not like we don’t have a basis for worrying.”

“I was the bloody _Kaitou KID_ , I can get money if I need it,” Saguru said archly.

Eisuke was at least glad he could joke about it, a little.  The others were less easily satisfied.

“ _We_ didn’t know that,” Shinichi protested shrilly.

“You’re a thefts detective now, how was I supposed to know you’d still be willing to steal stuff?” Kaito asked, at nearly the same time.  “Who knows what goes on inside your head?”

“Who _wants_ to know what goes on inside his head?” Heiji muttered, a half-second later.

“I had methods,” Hakuba said quietly.  “I did before, and I do now.  I tried to avoid outright theft, or crimes with individual victims, but most of it was not especially legal.”

“Couldn’t you just have done street magic or something?” Kaito asked.

“Putting aside how easily you would have tracked me if I’d tried it while avoiding you lot, street magic isn’t worth it,” Saguru said.  “Not when you’re actually trying to make a profit.  Too much risk, too little reward.”

Kaito raised an eyebrow at the word “risk.”

“It’s one thing to risk myself for KID’s goals, another to do it for 200-odd pounds on a streetcorner,” Saguru huffed.  “As it turns out, there are benefits to having a few feet of stage between you and the belligerent drunks, to say nothing of the risks of being in a profession which marks you as someone likely to carry money on their person…”

“Okay, to be fair, that doesn’t sound like a very good job,” Shinichi said.  “But couldn’t you have at least tried something legal?”

“You, of all people, should be familiar with my reasons not to,” Saguru said.  “I have no legal identification save that I acquired as Hakuba Saguru.  Most employers nowadays require some legal proof of your existence.”

“Well, that right there’s a reason to head back to Japan,” Heiji muttered.

“You really think you’ll talk me into going back because I want a job?” Hakuba asked, looking more baffled than anything.

“It was worth a shot?” Heiji offered, as Shinichi snickered at him.

Hakuba just shook his head and settled back into his seat.  He didn’t look happy, exactly, but some of the tension had gone out of him, and he at least seemed to be enjoying the soup.

The fit of giggles at Heiji’s admittedly absurd suggestion seemed to have done Shinichi some good, too, though he still looked tired.  And while Heiji looked put out, he also didn’t look quite as overwhelmed as he had earlier.

But Hakuba’s response to Heiji had tightened something in Kaito’s posture. It was hard to pick out, unless you were looking for it, but everything was a little _too_ straight, from his smile to the line of his back.  Kaito wasn’t dealing well with the idea that Hakuba was still undecided about coming home, it seemed.

“Hey, shouldn’t we let Officer Hashimoto know we found Hakuba?” Kaito said, and his voice sounded absolutely natural, despite all that tension.

“I guess so,” Eisuke said, because he was pretty sure Kaito had a plan for the sudden topic change.

“How on Earth do you know him?” Hakuba asked, now looking rather startled.

“It’s a long story,” Shinichi said quickly, even as Heiji was opening his mouth, no doubt to start ranting about Shinichi passing out in the street.  “But he was the one who gave us a list of places you’d been on cases to check.  Kaito wouldn’t have found you without his help.”

“Yeah, I guess we owe him an update,” Heiji said.

There was something just a bit calculating in Kaito’s eyes as he got up to get his cell phone. “I’ll just call the station and see if he’s still there.”

Eisuke wasn’t quite sure what Kaito was planning, but he was willing to watch and wait.  He trusted Kaito not to do anything too ill-advised with the situation so delicate. Besides, there was always the outside chance that whatever he was trying could work.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Normally, Hashimoto Junichi didn’t work late shifts.  For him, they were nearly always overtime, and he didn’t really _need_ overtime pay.  Besides, for all that his wife occasionally worked late shifts at her job, he still liked to get home on time when he could on those nights.  He wasn’t much of a cook, but it was nice to have _something_ ready for her when she wasn’t getting home until late in the evening.  

But Saguru’s case was getting to him, especially with yesterday’s visit from...well, he wasn’t even sure how to group the kids.  None of them particularly claimed friendship with Saguru, half of them weren’t detectives, but they were all very concerned about him and it was making Junichi concerned.  They’d made a lot of veiled references to Saguru being in danger, and hadn’t explained any of them. Which was really weighing on Junichi’s mind, frankly, and if he was deliberately distracting himself with overtime in hopes that it would make him feel better about the case he _couldn’t_ help with...well, there were worse things he could be doing.

“Hashimoto, phone for you!” the secretary shouted across the office.  “It’s about a case?”

Junichi picked up the phone, confused. It was weird, for anyone to call him about a case.  He wasn’t high-ranked enough to be lead investigator on pretty much anything, and he wasn’t the station expert on anything, either.  Actually, he couldn’t really think of any cases he was involved in that anyone would even bother _calling_ about, not this late at night.

“Officer Hashimoto?” the Kuroba kid asked in Japanese.  “You asked us to keep you updated on our case, right?”  

_No, I didn’t,_ Junichi said, heart suddenly in his throat. _But if they’re willing to tell me something, I’ll take whatever information I can get_.

“Did something happen?” he asked aloud.

“We found Hakuba _-san_!” Kaito said, all cheer that _had_ to be fake, somehow, even if Junichi couldn’t hear a false note for the life of him.

And then, the information registered.

“You--you _what?_ ” Junichi managed.  “Is he okay? Can I _talk_ to him?”

“Well, he’s here in the hotel room but I don’t think he really wants to--” Kaito said.

_He led with ‘he’s here in the hotel room,’_ Hashimoto thought.   _Those kids were spinning yarns the second they stepped into the station; if he really didn’t want me to talk to Saguru he wouldn’t have told me that.  He’s not trying to keep me from talking to him, he’s just making a show of it._

“What if I said you should be a good child, respect your elders, and hand the phone to Saguru?” Junichi tested.

“Then I would hand the phone to Saguru,” Kaito said.

“I wasn’t aware you knew the _meaning_ of the phrase ‘respect your elders’!” a somewhat distant voice sputtered, in British-accented Japanese.

It was unmistakably Saguru, and hearing him, indignant and blustering and _alive,_ loosened something in Junichi’s chest.

There was a bit of noise on the line, and then Kaito’s distant laughter. And then, just the sound of soft, measured breathing against a field of indistinct background noise.

“Saguru?” Junichi asked.

“Hello,” Saguru said quietly, in English.

“I am so glad to hear your voice,” Junichi said, in the same language.  “Where were--no, that’s not important.  Are you all right?”

“I am fine,” Saguru said stiffly.

_Don’t sound fine,_ Junichi thought, suspicious.  “So, have those lot talked you around to going home yet?”

Saguru didn’t respond.  He didn’t respond for a worryingly long amount of time.

“Kid?” Junichi asked.

“I’m not--it’s complicated,” Saguru said.  “I’m not certain that my returning would be entirely for the best.”

“Wouldn’t be--what are you talking about?” Junichi asked.  “Do you have any idea how hard your father’s been looking for you?”

“Yes,” Saguru said, sounding unhappy.

“Was something wrong at home?” Junichi asked, chilled at the very thought.  

“N-no!” Saguru all but shouted.  “Nothing like that!  Father was nothing but good to me--”

“Then why don’t you want him looking for you?”

“He shouldn’t be preoccupying himself with it,” Saguru said.  “I thought I made it clear enough when I left, that I was leaving of my own volition, and not planning to return.  And yet, everyone keeps putting such effort into finding me.”

_He actually sounds confused_ , Junichi thought, more than a little appalled.  “Saguru, you’ve worked missing persons cases, right?”

“Of course,” Saguru said.  “You were there for a number of them.  What is your point?”

“You know that the outlook for a missing person goes significantly downhill after the first few days of an investigation,” Junichi said.

“Actually, there’s been statistics released; most missing people in the UK return home alive,” Saguru said absently.  “Japan’s statistics are a bit less clear because of issues with our government recordkeeping, but--”

_Trust the kid to know that off the top of his head, honestly_ , Junichi thought, exasperated.

“Yeah, maybe country-wide,” Junichi said.  “But in London?  Or Tokyo, for that matter--”

“You and Father well know I can handle myself alone in cities,” Saguru said.  “I’ve done it before.”

“We _hoped_ you could,” Junichi corrected.  “But sometimes we find dead bodies on patrol and ID them from the missing persons board back at the station; you know that.  What exactly did you think everyone back home thought had happened to you?”

“Surely they wouldn’t think so little of me…” Saguru sounded almost offended.

“It’s been two months, Saguru, and even if you’d lived on your own before, you didn’t take much with you,” Junichi said.  “And the fact that as many police as he had out looking for you couldn’t catch one trace of a six-foot-tall blond foreigner didn’t exactly bode well.”

Again, it took Saguru an unnerving amount of time to reply.  “I didn’t intend anyone to think me _dead_.”

“So, what, we were supposed to think you were fine off on your own?” Junichi asked, maybe more snappishly than he ought to have.  “Saguru, I don’t know that I’ve ever really known you when you were _fine_.”

“Perhaps you haven’t,” Saguru said quietly.  

“You got closer, when you were over there in Japan, though,” Junichi said.  “They put the interviews you did with JNN about that thief whose case you were working on Youtube, you know.  You looked...settled in.  Less hounded, maybe.”

“How do you know that wasn’t all acting?” Saguru asked.

_There’s a trap there, somewhere,_ Junichi thought, and didn’t answer right away.  “Was it?” he finally asked.

“More than it should have been, maybe,” Saguru said.  “But not all of it.  Your aunt and uncle were good to me, and so was their housekeeper.  But it’s not as simple as--” he broke off.  “There are things I can’t explain to you.  Or to them.”

“If you’re willing to go home, I think they’ll be willing to wait,” Junichi said.  “I think they’ll be willing to wait as long as you’ll need.”

“Will they really?” Saguru muttered, half to himself.

“They never really pushed you to tell them about what happened before you came to London, did they?” Junichi said.  “I hardly think they’re going to start pushing _now_ , especially if you ask them not to.  They’re just going to be glad to have you there at all.”

Saguru’s long silences were starting to get unnerving, at this point.  Junichi really hoped someone in the hotel room was keeping an eye on him.

“You’re all being bizarrely insistent about this,” Saguru said at last.

“Your father and mother are--” Junichi started.

“But why are _you_ so invested in it?” Saguru asked.

Junichi was honestly caught flat-footed by the question.  Maybe he hadn’t been as close to the kid as he should have been.  He had the suspicion, for example, that Saguru would have been better for it if he or Forrester had decided to press things when Saguru had begged off going to eat with the squad after some of their rougher cases.  Or even if he’d just taken him aside once or twice and asked if he was up to the case of the day.  But he didn’t think he’d come off as that uninterested…

“We worked together for a while, Saguru, why _wouldn’t_ I care?” he asked aloud, trying not to sound hurt by the question.

Saguru sighed, and it sounded tired.  “Why not, indeed?  You all baffle me.”

Junichi had no idea _what_ to say to that, so he kept his peace.

“It appears that I’ve...misunderstood some things,” Saguru said slowly.  “Severely so, even.  I didn’t realize the effects that my leaving Japan would have.”

“Does that mean you’ll go back?” Junichi asked, probably a bit too quickly.

“I don’t think I could do anything else, and feel right about it,” Saguru said.

Junichi let out something between a sigh of relief and a laugh.  “Well, you needn’t get so excited about the prospect.”

“I don’t think I could,” Saguru said.  “This won’t be easy.  I’m not sure I _can_ do it.  But I at least owe it to everyone--”

_How did we ever think this kid was okay?_ Junichi wondered.

“You owe it to yourself, too,” he said aloud.  “Didn’t you tell me you were happy with my aunt and uncle?”

“My happiness isn’t necessarily my priority at the moment,” Saguru said, and there was something worryingly distant to his tone.

“Don’t you think maybe it ought to be, at least some of the time?” Junichi prompted.

“Why don’t I see if Kaito wants to talk to you again,” Saguru said, suddenly all cool remove.

_I guess that means he’s had it for the evening_ , Junichi thought, chagrined, as he heard the phone change hands.

“ _Thank you_ ,” Kaito breathed.  “I owe you _forever,_ I swear--just for this, I am staying out of New Cross Gate for the foreseeable future--”

He heard faint laughter in the background.

“Is that supposed to be a favor to me?” Junichi asked, frankly baffled.  “Because I wasn’t that happy about you poking into active investigations, but it turned out all right, and you seem like an okay kid overall--”

“Nevermind that,” Kaito said, quickly enough to be suspicious. “Just, thank you.  And...let us let your uncle know, when we show up?”

Junichi sighed.  “You’d better have good reasons for that.”

“I’m not sure we’re heading straight back to Hakuba’s house when we land in Japan, and I don’t want his parents worrying if we don’t show up right away,” Kaito said.  

“I’m in favor of not worrying his parents, but don’t keep them waiting too long, either,” Junichi said.  “It’s been long enough already.”

“Believe me, it’s been long enough for all of us,” Kaito replied.  “Thank you again, Officer.”

“Thank you, Kuroba _-kun_ ,” Junichi replied.  “Get him home safe, will you?”

“I’ll do my best,” Kuroba said, and then hung up, leaving Junichi to stare at the office phone and try to process what had just happened.  

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ostensibly, Mihoshi Laboratories was a perfectly legitimate pharmaceuticals corporation. In fact, it was, almost all of the time.  But the CEO had a few secrets that they didn’t want getting out, so every once in a while, they loaned out their corporate offices, off the record.

Their organization had such arrangements with a number of businesses; Vermouth never bothered keeping track of them so she wasn’t certain if she’d been here before.  The stark-white color scheme and endless rows of cubicles seemed familiar...but those were ubiquitous in corporate Japan.  They blended together after a while.

The computer she sat at was new, but not as new as it could have been.  This was inconvenient, but not as much so as the trenchcoat-wearing annoyance who was staring over her shoulder without a hint of shame.  A few strands of gray hair actually slithered over her shoulder and trailed down onto the desk.  She glanced over her shoulder and did her best to promise him death with nothing but her eyes.

He flinched, just slightly, which clearly meant she still had it.

The fluorescent lights above them hummed quietly, busy keeping the pre-sunrise darkness at bay.

“That person wants this taken care of, as soon as possible,” Gin said, tone urgent.

“I’ve been told the same thing,” Vermouth said, with a huff. “Are you really just here to make sure I’m not slacking off?”

“Don’t treat this so lightly!”  Gin snapped.  “We lost high-level people to the arrests in Russia.  And if the arrests in America were the same person--one of those people was an alcohol codename.”

Vermouth hadn’t known that, but she’d sooner take a bullet than tell Gin so.  “The way things are right now, most of us are gathered here in Japan,” she noted mildly.  “I wonder if that person will send one of us out to America to replace them, or promote someone already there.”

“I don’t think that person’s going to be moving personnel around a lot until we figure out who’s after us,” Gin said.

Vermouth raised an eyebrow.  “They’re arrests.  It’s obviously some sort of rogue detective.”

“There were _explosions_ in Omsk,” Gin said.  “The arrests could be a smokescreen.  A way to cut down our power so we aren’t ready for it when they launch a direct attack.”

Vermouth paused, halfway through hacking into the company’s secure internet connection.  “You really think someone would _dare_?  We’ll chew them to pieces so small, no one will even recognize what’s left, and the entire criminal underworld _knows that_.”

“They managed these arrests, who knows what they’re capable of,” Gin said darkly.  “We all know what pride goes before, Vermouth.”

“Between the hair and the proverbs, you’re doing an excellent impression of an old man, Gin,” Vermouth snapped, turning her attention back to the computer.

Gin followed her gaze.  “At a time like this, you’re checking your credit card?” he demanded.

Vermouth closed the page before he could get a good look at it.  “That wasn’t _my_ credit card,” Vermouth said.

She pushed back the chair, deliberately knocking Gin off-balance, and stood.

“Whose was it?” he asked, straightening.

“Never you mind,” Vermouth said, shaking out her hair.  “All you need to know is that we have a lead.  Something relevant is in London.  Set your people on it.”

“That’s all you’re giving me?” Gin asked.

“If it’s not enough for you to work with, you can let that person know,” Vermouth said airly.

She pretended not to hear Gin swearing under his breath as he followed her out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Warnings for: Discussion of PTSD as a general topic. Ongoing portrayal of PTSD/depression symptoms, including paranoia, poor-self-care, self-worth issues, and a few moments of possible dissociation/flashback (it is left unclear in the narrative). Some discussion of emotional manipulation. Some more general poor coping mechanisms. Discussion of missing persons cases, particularly those with poor outcomes. Discussion of murder. On a less severe note, Saguru taking actions, albeit under dire circumstances, that would be out of character for both his and Kaito’s canon characterizations and might be jarring for some people.
> 
> I had intended to have Saguru explain in this chapter exactly how he’d obtained money to live on while living on his own, but it felt OOC for him to spill his secrets when he hadn’t agreed to return home. So some of it remains a mystery. That said, I realize that depending on who you are, the idea of any version of Kaito keeping things he steals may be a bridge too far for you. Without spoiling later chapters, be assured that most of what he did was not actually theft, but was nonetheless not very legal.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a short chapter, in some part because getting sick earlier this month ate my writing time and well nigh killed my chapter buffer. I do want to warn you that, as a result, there’s a chance that next chapter may be a week late. We’re coming up on a very delicate part of the story, and I need time to check and recheck everything, and to make sure that my beta has time to see and review all of it. I hope you all can understand.
> 
> Thanks to miladyRanger for beta-ing, and warnings in the end-note, as always.

The next morning, instead of eating at the hotel restaurant yet again, they went to a nearby bakery to pick up pastries and drinks.  Kaito hadn’t been awake yet when Eisuke had taken advantage of the hotel information desk and gotten directions. Actually, no one but Eisuke had been awake.  With the evening they’d all had...no one slept well.

Now, none of them could quite look one another in the eye anymore.  Kaito liked all of these people, he’d be perfectly willing to take a bullet saving them--and after the last two months, he knew _exactly_ what taking a bullet entailed--but this was showing anyone awake what he looked like, waking up from nightmares with every bit of his guard down, and seeing them, Shinichi and Hakuba, particularly, in the same states. Not the same at all, and not something he was comfortable with, either.

Shinichi, he knew, didn’t even like the idea of having his guard down, much less someone seeing him that way.  And Hakuba...well, in a way, he’d seen Hakuba with his guard down, before.  In the mirror.

Except Hakuba wasn’t really the same person as him.

This was all much less philosophically challenging when it was theoretical.  Now, it was a practical challenge, too, and it, or rather, he, was walking a few steps in front of him, carrying a tray of hot drinks and trying to pretend that having someone behind him didn’t make him a tiny bit nervous.

Kaito could relate.  But someone had to take rear guard, and it wasn’t going to be the flight risk.

Eisuke, by way of being the only one who knew where they were going, had taken point, though Heiji had drawn the line at actually letting him carry the food.  This had turned out to be a good plan--even well-rested, he’d still tripped twice already, and nearly knocked over a display at the bakery.  Kaito noted that the clumsiness seemed a little better when he was running on adrenaline, but that obviously wasn’t a long-term solution.

_Wonder if he’s ever tried gymnastics, or martial arts_? He thought.  Then, all but laughed at his own feeble attempt at distracting himself.  

He just...wasn’t sure how to talk to Hakuba, now?  The boundaries were all mixed and blurry and he wasn’t sure how much he really _knew_ anymore.  How much of Kaito was left inside of him?  How much of the Hakuba who’d gone to school and heists had been real, and how much was an act?  

_Is this how I make people feel when I impersonate someone they know for long periods of time?_ Kaito thought, with a shudder.   _Because if so, I’m gonna make a note to not do that, anymore, if I can avoid it.  This is terrible._

He was no more certain of how to interact with Hakuba by the time they’d returned to the hotel room, but on the bright side, there were chocolate croissants.  Well, along with other baked goods, but the chocolate croissants, specifically, were Kaito’s.

“I think the lady at th’ store thought we were buyin’ those for Kudou,” Heiji said, amused, as Kaito claimed his breakfast.

“Judging by appearances is shallow,” Kaito declared, even as Kudou made a face.

Eisuke gave him a questioning look.

“I don’t like sweet things,” Kudou said.  “But…”

“If ya promise not ta bite my head off over it again, I’ll get ya yer coffee,” Heiji said with a laugh, handing him a small cup of it.

Kudou outright glowered, as Hakuba asked, “Do I want to hear this story?”

Eisuke snickered as Heiji launched into an animated retelling, complete with passable imitations of Kudou’s Tokyo accent, pitched to an unpleasant timbre to mimic his current vocal range.  Kaito only halfway paid attention.  The combination of exhaustion from last night’s poor sleep and the adrenaline crash of having a goal he’d pursued for two months finally complete was starting to catch up with him.

“So, we’ve got about half the day until our flight leaves,” Eisuke said, snapping Kaito back to attention.

“We do need to pack, but that’s not urgent,” Kudou said.  He glanced at Eisuke and Hattori.  “You two haven’t been to London before.  Maybe you should actually go sightsee, since there’s time.”

Eisuke blinked.  “Do you really think--”

Heiji elbowed him in the side.  “Hey, c’mon, it’ll be fun!  We can go see anything but the Holmes Museum!”

“The Holmes Museum is the best part!” Shinichi said hotly.

“Better than the Tower of London?” Eisuke asked, skeptical.

Kaito snickered, then glanced at Hakuba.  “Maybe while the detectives are out being tourists, we could take advantage of the privacy and talk a bit?”

_And eventually get anything from your apartment that you wanna keep, but I’m_ not _leading with that_ , he added mentally.

Hakuba grimaced.  “What if I’d rather go to the Tower of London?”

Kaito sighed.  “So you can run off?”

“I wouldn’t…I just...I’m no more interested in talking about serious matters than you generally are,” Hakuba said.

“I’ll try harder, if you will,” Kaito said.

Hakuba sighed again.  “You are forever being better than me,” he said softly.

“I feel the same way, believe it or not,” Kaito replied.  “But this isn’t a contest and—”

His phone rang, startling both of them.   _I thought I turned this off!  And why would Mom be calling now?_

“Hello?” he asked, picking up.

“Ah, Kaito _-kun_!” came a bubbly voice that Kaito only vaguely recognized, and which was _definitely_ not his mother, unless she was playing mind games again.  “I’d love to chat, but I really need you to give the phone to my son, so if you wouldn’t mind?”

_Her son?_ Kaito echoed mentally.  Heiji’s mother would have an Osaka accent, Hakuba’s mother didn’t know they’d found her son, Eisuke’s mother was _dead_ …that left Kudou Yukiko.  A woman he had spoken to before, and who knew his mother.  More importantly, though, she was the owner of the credit cards that had paid for most of the plane tickets that had gotten them to London.

This…could be bad.

“You’re Kudou Yukiko, right?” Kaito ventured.

“And your mother says you’re not a detective,” the woman chirped.  “But seriously, I need to talk to Shin- _chan_.”

“He’s not here,” Kaito said, not quite willing to tip his cards that far.  “You can talk to Conan _-kun_ , though.”

Conan looked up from the tourist guide he’d been marking up for Heiji and Eisuke, eyes wide.

Kaito mouthed ‘your mother,’ and his eyes got _even wider_.  He practically ran for the phone, snatching it out of Kaito’s hands and then flopping down on the floor, right there next to the bed.

He was talking rapidly the moment the phone was in his hand.  “Yes, I used the credit card, I’m sorry, it was an emergen—” he broke off, clearly interrupted.

“ _WHAT_?” he shouted, jerking back into the bed and making the springs shudder.  “Why would you even still _have_ it if you _knew_ —” he paused, eyes widening.  “Seriously, _are you insane_?”  He listened for a few more seconds.  “Well, yes, I was clearly wrong to take the money without telling you but how was I supposed to guess—”  Another pause.  “Obviously, yes, we have to do something.  I’ll tell them.  This is a disaster, but I’ll tell them.”

Kaito stared at him.  “Tell us what?”

“Vermouth has been watching the card I used to buy our tickets here,” Shinichi said miserably, setting the phone down on the carpet.  “Mom knows about it; that’s why it was in storage.”

“Excuse me?” Eisuke asked, a bit breathlessly.

Shinichi glanced up at Kaito and Hakuba.  “You remember that Mom studied with your father, around the same time she did, right?”

They both nodded.

“They kept in touch,” Shinichi said. “They have the weirdest friendship ever.  Like, Mom knows that Vermouth is working with people who are trying to kill me, Vermouth knows that Mom’s husband is trying to arrest her and all her co-workers, but they still get together sometimes for lunch.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty friggin’ weird all right,” Heiji said, all quiet tension.  “But not quite to the level of ‘watching each other’s credit cards,’ ‘least not as I see it.”

“Trying to get inside of each other’s guards is all part of their relationship,” Shinichi said.  “In retrospect, this is absolutely the sort of thing I should have expected.  Vermouth using what she knows about Mom to guess her credit card passwords, Dad noticing the extra activity from Vermouth’s monitoring, Mom keeping the account open and using it _very_ occasionally just to keep Vermouth guessing…it’s completely like them.”

“So she knows we went to London,” Kaito said, not sure whether he felt more panic or dread, but determined to show neither on his face.

“So she knows I asked about the person going after _Them_ , then went to London,” Shinichi corrected.  “And she knows we bought a ticket for Eisuke, which is dangerous all by itself.”

Eisuke stood.  “Oh no—Hidemi—”

“Yeah,” Shinichi said.  “I’m _so_ sorry.  Chances are still low that she’ll put the pieces together, but it’s still possible.  My parents are willing to help with damage control, but, well, it’s my parents,” he added, a little helplessly.

Kaito shrugged.  “It’s not like we’ve got much choice, do we?”

Heiji cursed.

Shinichi, still scowling, picked the phone back up again, as Hakuba turned to Kaito with a confused expression.

“What, exactly, is wrong with Shinichi’s parents?” he asked.

Kaito, keeping half an ear on Shinichi’s phone conversation, winced.

“Okay, yeah, return tickets—when?  I mean, now, if you think it would be best, we already found him,” Shinichi was grumbling into the phone.  “Yes, found him, honestly, how incompetent do you think we are?  Yes I know the police didn’t have any leads—your old teacher’s wife?  Why would she be able to find him?”

“You know how you aren’t Mom’s biggest fan?” Kaito asked Hakuba.  “You’re gonna _love_ the Kudous, from what Hattori _-san_ ’s said.”

Hakuba glowered.  “Splendid.”

“No, not to _Japan_ ; Eisuke lives in America!” Shinichi snapped into the phone.  “What do you mean—wait, no, you can’t—what do you mean you already— _of course I’m telling him_!”

He put the phone down again.  “Eisuke, my parents don’t think it’s safe for you to go straight back to the U.S., just in case Vermouth does put anything together, which makes a limited amount of sense.  The problem is the part where Mom’s convinced one of her protégés to go to your house, break in, and live your life for you until you can make it home.”

“What,” Eisuke said slowly, less asking than reacting.

“This is why I didn’t want to call them in the first place,” Shinichi said, sounding exhausted.  “I’m really sorry.”

“That’s really not your fault,” Eisuke said.  “Give me the phone.”

“It’s not gonna work,” Shinichi said. “You can steamroll me but Mom makes Hollywood directors do what she wants.  Now, one more thing—she wants us to go back to Japan, but not Tokyo.  Because if we go back to Tokyo, with Hakuba in tow…”

“It will be obvious that I was connected with all of those arrests,” Hakuba said quietly.

“So, is there somewhere else we could go?” Shinichi asked.

Kaito shifted uncomfortably. “I have...places, and one or two are outside of Tokyo, but…”

“I just pulled Vermouth onto our scent by accident, and you’ve already said you’re a little uncomfortable trusting us,” Shinichi said.  “I can see why you might not want to invite us all to your safehouses.  Besides, I don’t think going into hiding is the right choice, here.”

Eisuke nodded. “We don’t want to show up where Vermouth will notice us, but it might be a good idea to go someplace where we’ll be seen and missed, if we vanish suddenly.  That’s what you’re getting at, right?”

“Hakuba, specifically, needs to be seen,” Shinichi replied.  “Because if _They_ do something to him now, he just stays missing.  But if he turns up and people see him, that might be enough to make going after him directly a risk for _Them_.”

“We can’t go to Osaka,” Heiji said quickly.  “I’m gonna be in hot water the moment my parents see me; my parents won’t let you all stay a second ‘less I explain _exactly_ what kinda trouble we’re in.  Which ain’t the goal here.”

“Nagano,” Kaito suggested.  “That police inspector who’s in charge of Saguru’s case is there, right?  We can get a hotel room or something.”

“That’ll be easy enough,” Shinichi said.  “If we just want to see him, we won’t even have to go to the police station. One of his officers texts Ran so I know his address.”

“Easy, except for the fact that I’m fairly certain you can’t fly straight into Nagano,” Hakuba said.

“That’s probably an advantage, under these circumstances,” Shinichi said.  “An indirect route’s harder to predict.  Besides, my parents are _excellent_ at getting what they want.  If there’s a way to get us to Nagano, they’ll find it, and if not, they’ll make one, anyway.”

“Wait, how does the officer Mouri _-san_ texts know this police inspector’s address?” Eisuke asked.  “And why are they telling Mouri- _san_ about it?”

“Inspector Yamato and Officer Uehara have a history,” Shinichi explained.  “The kind that Sonoko and Ran like sighing over.”

“Inspector Yamato is handling the case?” Hakuba asked, sounding surprised.  “How on Earth did it end up with him?”

Everyone looked at Heiji.   “Near as I can tell, he wanted it, and there was a lead in Nagano he used as an excuse.  Or at least that’s what the office gossip says.”  He shrugged.  “Anyhow, I like this plan.  He wanted a case update; he’s gonna _get_ one.”

“Okay, we’ve decided,” Eisuke said, holding out a hand. “Now give me the phone.  I’m talking to your mother before she has an actor crash my life.”

Shinichi slumped and handed him the phone.

“Hello, I’m Hondou Eisuke, and I’d thank you to not have anyone break into my apartment,” Eisuke started firmly.  “Yes, I know it will seem odd if I’m not back,” a pause, “Basing an impersonation on a bit of security footage isn’t—”  He broke off, clearly interrupted.  “Can they even take care of doves?”  He was silent for a few minutes.  “Fine, but if he really wants into my apartment he can just tell the owner that he’s forgotten his key.  I _won’t_ have my lock picked.”  Another pause.  “If he wants lockpicking practice he can buy spare locks from the hardware store and pick _those_!”

He took a breath. “We’ve decided to go to Nagano when we return to Japan. I’ll let Conan _-kun_ make the rest of the arrangements.”

Shinichi blinked at him, wide-eyed, as Eisuke handed him the phone.

Breaking his focus away from the phone conversation for a bit, Kaito glanced at Saguru.  “I’m pretty sure we’re going to be leaving as soon as they can get us a flight, but before we leave…” he took a breath and steeled himself.  “I didn’t want to push you about where you’ve been living or whether you have anything you’d want to take along, but, given all of this...is there anything you can’t leave behind and risk Vermouth finding?  Because if there is, we need to go get it, as soon as we can.”

Saguru met his eyes.  “I’ve a computer,” he said.  “I’ve encrypted everything, and the passwords are strong, but no system is truly impenetrable.” He paused for a few seconds, eyes flickering closed, then opening again.  “There are a few printouts that oughtn’t be left there, as well.”

“Can we go get them?” Kaito asked.

“I don’t think I have a choice,” Saguru said.  “I can’t leave them there, and I hardly think you’ll let me go alone.”

“We’ve got tickets for a flight into Sapporo Chitose, and one of Dad’s friends is flying us to Shinshu-Matsumoto from there, because apparently connecting flights only go out once a day, in the late afternoon,” Shinichi said, voice clearly pitched to deliver an an announcement.  “My parents are paying for everything; it’ll be about 19 hours travel time, if you count the drive from the airport to where we want to be--we’ll end up in the same town as the prefectural police station before dawn tomorrow.”

“When does our flight leave?” Eisuke asked.

Shinichi grimaced.  “We’ve got about an hour?” he said.

“OK, time to pack,” Heiji said, starting to clear empty bags and cups off the side table.  “And we’ll need ta talk ta the front desk about checkin’ out early.”

“Is that a big deal?” Eisuke asked.  

“It depends,” Shinichi said absently. “We should call ahead for a cab, too, and--”

“Hakuba needs to go back to where he was staying,” Kaito interrupted.  “There are things he can’t leave behind to be found by anyone looking for us.”

Shinichi nodded.  “You’re going with him?”

“I can pack in five minutes,” Kaito said.  “I was raised by an _internationally_ famous magician; I learned how to pack efficiently when I was still getting used to writing in _kanji_.”

Shinichi looked at him, considering, then said.  “You’re the best person to do this, no matter how I look at it.  Go get a cab, do what you need to do, and meet us at Heathrow. We’ll bring your suitcase, and I’ll call you on the Detective Badge with where in the terminal to meet us.”

Kaito didn’t like the feeling of being bossed around by Shinichi, but since he’d been about to suggest something pretty similar, he couldn’t justify arguing.

“You’re using those little walkie-talkie badges to communicate?” Hakuba asked, visibly amused.  

“Shut up!” Kaito snapped, making for his suitcase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for vague allusions to the Kudous being crappy parents, the Kudous specifically doing a lot of their particular brand of making decisions for people and then bulldozing over various objections and concerns, some discussion of Hakuba’s specific emotional issues and references to the boys’ issues in general.
> 
> Kaito saying he learned to pack well when he was still learning to write in _kanji_ basically means he learned young. _Kanji_ are the most complex type of Japanese writing, so children learn them after the simpler alphabets. A child Conan’s age, for example, would be expected to have difficulty reading and writing all but a few _kanji_ and to use _hiragana_ , a more simply written alphabet, instead, in most cases.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please leave a review on your way out, if you’re so inclined!


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you guys for your patience! Thanks to the hiatus, I was actually able to resurrect the chapter buffer, if only a little--next week’s chapter is written already, ha! 
> 
> Just so you know, justjoy actually wrote the h/c scenario I suggested back in Chapter 2--it’s called "on balance” and is on [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10265423), [Tumblr](http://presumenothing.tumblr.com/post/158340798330/from-the-author-of-steeplechase-for-the-record) and [FFN](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12403098/1/on-balance); please go read it and give her all the wonderful feedback.
> 
> As always, warnings are in the end note, though I’m gonna frontload one of them again--someone other than the POV character at the time has a flashback in this chapter. The end note has more details on the specific circumstances and what section of text to avoid if that’s not something you’re comfortable reading. Also, as always, miladyRanger is perpetually the best beta and neither this chapter nor this fic would exist without her. To be perfectly accurate, some parts of the second section's dialogue are either hers or are things I only came up with because she poked me in the right direction. We've been working on that section for a while...

**Chapter 33**

Kaito sat back against the leatherette seat of the cab, wincing at the plasticky squeak of the material under his shifting weight, and snapped his phone shut.  Persuading a police officer to stop giving out information about a case, even a closed one, was an uphill battle, especially when they saw you as a kid and you barely spoke their language.  At least he’d gotten Clarke, who was hostile but reasonable, instead of Chaudry, who seemed to hate Hakuba on principle, or Forrester, who Kaito suspected thought the lot of them were kids playing dress-up.

Hakuba had given the cab driver an address, but that honestly hadn’t meant anything to Kaito. He didn’t know London, and probably wouldn’t _get_ to know it anytime soon.  They were pretty much fleeing London; that was going to make return trips awkward at best.  Hakuba could probably come back safely--he had an excuse, what with his fabricated heritage and his adoptive extended family in the city.  But Kaito would probably have to wait until he was a professional magician and could get someplace in London to book him.

Well, Kaito didn’t really like London that much anyhow.  Though he had to admit that he was probably basing that on the fact that his visit had been, for practical reasons, limited to a lot of the least impressive parts of the city.  

Which, a glance out the window told him, was exactly where they were now.

It shouldn’t have surprised him.  It didn’t, really.  But there was some part of him that couldn’t reconcile it, not with Hakuba actually here and present and acting _like himself_ , all straight posture and careful reserve.  Even though they’d guessed that Hakuba was living somewhere rough; even though Kaito had known for a while that “Hakuba” as they knew him was a facade and probably cultivated to fit with what people expected of the Inspector-General’s child.

The cab squealed to a stop in front of a plain-looking apartment building.  It wasn’t in good repair--there was rust on the fire escape, and the paint was flaking in a few places, but it wasn’t as dodgy-looking as Kaito had feared.  Some of the nearby buildings, though, made Kaito glad he hadn’t brought Shinichi along.  They looked _exactly_ like the kinds of places the Heisei Holmes might find a corpse.

Or, maybe they were all inhabited by older people who couldn’t afford home repairs or lawn care and thought graffitti gave the exteriors a certain _panache_.  They might not _all_ be abandoned.

Still, Kaito didn’t envy the cab driver his time waiting outside the building.

Swallowing, Kaito followed Hakuba into the building, up a few flights of stairs, and down a hallway lit by a few naked lightbulbs, until Hakuba paused at one of the doors and took out a set of keys.

“So, you’re going to bother with keys?” Kaito joked uneasily, feeling nervous at the whole situation and oddly exposed in the badly-lit, strange, corridor.  It was either humor, Poker Face,  or starting to fiddle with playing cards, and, really, any of them would tell Hakuba how he was feeling.

“Why pick the lock when I don’t have to?” Hakuba said.  “Besides, we’re in a rush, and this is a bit faster.” He twisted the key in the lock, pushed the door open, and strode through.

The door opened into a main room, lit by sunlight filtering through crookedly-hung Venetian blinds on the only window to pool on the laminate flooring.  Hakuba flicked a switch, and a few weak ceiling fixtures lit the apartment further, making it possible to see that the far side of the room opened to a small kitchen, and a door on one wall was likely to a bathroom.

The kitchen, as far as Kaito could see, had the standard appliances--a stove and a refrigerator--albeit ones that had seen better days.  But the rest of the apartment was painfully bare.  There was a futon, or something like one, in one corner.  In another, a scratched-up computer sat on an upturned cardboard box, with a chair pulled up to it.  Some papers were scattered on the floor nearby, and some clothes were stacked in neat piles around a bag below the window.  And that was _it._

Kaito glanced at Hakuba, and bit his lip.  There were a lot of things he wanted to say, but most of them, he knew, weren’t likely to be taken well.

“It’s a safehouse,” Hakuba said, starting across the room.  “It only needed to be functional.”

“When you were in America--” Kaito began.

Hakuba cut him off. “I told Hondou _-san_ my apartment was so empty because I was still moving in.  He believed me.”

“Are you telling me you bought the furniture in your apartment for Eisuke?” Kaito pressed, not sure if he found that endearing or worrying.

Hakuba, who was gathering the papers from near the upturned box, either didn’t hear him, or was ignoring him.  Kaito suspected the latter.

When he did finally speak to Kaito, it was to say, “Go through the fridge and the cupboards.  Gather anything perishable.”

“I’m not your maid, Hakuba _-san_ ,” Kaito snapped, out of pure reflex.

“You act as if I won’t be helping,” Hakuba said, raising an eyebrow, as he set the papers down on the stovetop and pulled a trashbag out of a cupboard beneath the sink.  He didn’t wait for Kaito to respond before starting to go through the contents of his cupboards.

Kaito sighed and opened the fridge.  There were a few bruised apples and a container of some sort of casserole on the shelves, and some deli meat and cheese in one of the drawers.  Kaito got all of them out, and Hakuba swept them into the bag, then set it aside.

Hakuba glanced at the papers on the stove, took a breath, and then ducked back into the living room.  He returned a second later with a slightly worn messenger bag over his shoulder.

“I can’t leave the computer here, or dispose of it safely,” Hakuba said.  “I’ll have to bring it.”

“But not the clothes?” Kaito asked.

“There’s no point in bringing them,” Hakuba said, reaching up into one of the cupboards and getting down a frying pan and a box of matches.

Kaito stared.

“It’s a gas stove,” Hakuba said.

“Yes, but what are you cooking?” Kaito said.

Hakuba looked at him as though he’d just said something stupid, then started folding the papers up, accordion-style, and setting them upright in the frying pan.

 _Oh,_ Kaito thought.

Hakuba inhaled, struck a match, and then ran it along the tops of the papers, setting them alight.  The top edges of the papers curled up and turned black within the flames almost instantly, soon flaking into ashes, but it took a while for the flames to move downward.  There was almost no smoke, but Kaito could still smell burning.

Hakuba still had the smoking match in one hand, the other arm covering his mouth and nose, and his eyes were locked on the burning papers with an intensity that made Kaito a little uncomfortable.

When the papers were finally ashes in the pan, Kaito ventured, “Okay, let’s get going.”

Hakuba didn’t react.

“Hakuba?” Kaito asked, a bit more loudly.

Hakuba’s eyes were still on the pan. Kaito was _really_ sure that wasn’t what he was seeing, anymore, though.  Kaito could hear his breathing, though, and it was too loud, and gasping, and it just...didn’t sound _right._  

Kaito did _not_ know how to deal with this.  He didn’t know anything about...okay, so maybe he had once or twice in the past suddenly remembered dropping Nightmare without quite realizing that he was _remembering_ it.  But that didn’t qualify him for getting someone _else_ out of a flashback.

Even when the person was, in fact, in some senses, him.  

“Okay, Hakuba _-san_ , I don’t know where you think are, or what you think is happening, but it’s _definitely_ not--” Kaito broke off, and remembered the detectives speculating about Hakuba and coping mechanisms.  Careful not to make too much noise, he took out his phone, and checked the time, then rattled off the date, from the year down to the minute.

“You’re in your apartment, Hakuba _-san_ , in London, and we’re getting ready to leave,” Kaito continued.

“Oh,” Hakuba said softly, and finally moved, the arm that had been covering his mouth falling slightly so that his hand now rested a bit to the side of his breastbone.  He rubbed at his chest with the edge of his thumb, just a bit, eyes still far away, before flicking the now-blackened match into the pan and dumping its contents into the garbage bag.

He tied off the garbage bag, his eyes never meeting Kaito’s.  “We’ll need to take this to the dumpsters around back.”

“Are you okay?” Kaito asked.

“Follow me,” Hakuba said, which was clearly his way of saying he didn’t want to talk about it.

Kaito didn’t like it, but now clearly wasn’t the time to test Hakuba’s boundaries.  If they got him home, he could talk to the Inspector-General, or maybe even an actual therapist, about whatever it was.

Unless it was trauma from being KID, in which case he’d still probably end up talking to Kaito, but maybe he could do it of his own volition instead of because Kaito had seen him have a flashback and he felt like he owed an explanation.

That sounded better for everyone, really, so Kaito decided to let the subject lie.  He still had _other_ questions, though.

“Where’d you get a computer, anyhow?” he asked, as they left the apartment.

“International students at universities tend to leave behind a lot of very usable items because they can’t fit them in their luggage,” Hakuba said.  “I took advantage.  As far as I can tell, this laptop was mostly discarded because it was a bit scratched and it had gotten an easy-to-remove virus.”

“Huh,” Kaito said.  “Are you sure it’s all you want to take with you?”

“I don’t really want to take it,” Hakuba said. “But there’s too much that could be retrieved from it if it’s found by the wrong people.  And I don’t want anything else, really.”

Hakuba lead them down a different staircase, to a metal door that opened onto an alley.  He opened the door, tossed the bag outside, and headed back up the stairs.

“Shouldn’t you have put it in the trashcan?” Kaito asked.

“That would positively identify it as belonging to someone from the building,” Hakuba said, opening a door in the stairwell to what Kaito hoped was the first floor.  “The squatters from the nearby buildings sometimes leave garbage here; I’m hoping it gets mistaken for theirs if anyone comes searching.”

“You’ve really thought this through,” Kaito said.

“The ability to think these things through is what’s kept me safe,” Hakuba replied.  “We should return to the cab.  I think we’ve kept the driver waiting long enough.”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Yamato Kansuke wouldn’t trade being a police officer for anything, but there were days when he was pretty glad to get off at the end of the day, and this was one of them.  He didn’t like admitting it, even to himself, but he eventually started feeling it when he had to be on his leg too long—and a whole shift spent canvassing the mountains for robbery suspects counted as too long, twice over again.  At least he’d gotten to stick to the foot of the mountain, instead of trying to do the nature hike up to the summit—he did _not_ envy the rookie officers who had to search up there.

If there was anything lucky at all about that avalanche, it was that it had happened after he’d been promoted far enough that he was no longer one of the officers who got sent out in every search party.  Because then he either would’ve ended up doing a lot more crap that his physical therapist would yell at him for than he already did, or some well-meaning superior would’ve tried to cut him a break.  Unfortunately, the latter scenario would’ve almost certainly resulted in some jerk implying he couldn’t do his job anymore—and then he would’ve ended up punching them, and getting probation, since Morofushi and Uehara hadn’t been around to hold him back in those days.

So, really, it was all for the best that he’d had some rank at the time.

Still, rank or not, it had been a long day, his leg was aching, and he was really, really glad to be off-duty.

He was at home, now, recliner tilted back, his cane propped up against the arm of the chair.  The fabric was worn but the cushioning was still as soft as ever, and he could feel himself falling asleep.   He didn’t try to fight it. He could wake himself up and go through all the effort to get into his proper bed, but what was the point?  If he was tired now, he might as well sleep now.

Well, maybe setting an alarm would be good, but his alarm was in his bedroom…

The next thing he was aware of was sharp, insistent knocking.  Kansuke sat straight up, glancing toward the nearest window.  It was not quite pitch black, but close enough--there was a faint suggestion of moonlight, and a few visible stars, but nothing that even looked like dawn.  

 _What the h***_ , he thought, getting to his feet and grabbing his cane, hoping it didn’t come down to using the thing as a bludgeon again.  Generally, people who came pounding on doors in the small hours of the morning were _not_ good news, but he really didn’t want a fight right now.

He’d put a lot of effort into being able to move quietly again after his injury, but he wasn’t perfect at it.  His bad leg was still a bit unreliable about how heavily it fell, sometimes, and the rubber tip on the cane had the audacity to _squeak_.  Still, he was apparently having a good night, because he made it to the door without a sound, and he was able to hear what was happening outside of it.

“...knock again…”

“...shut up…”

“...sleeping…”

Multiple voices, hushed, but weirdest of all, they sounded like kids.  But on the bright side, there weren’t edges of threat to their tones, and if they had weapons, they were keeping them quiet.

 _Again, what the h***,_ he thought.  And then, decided to do the thing Yui would probably yell at him for, and find out what was actually going on.

He opened the door, flicking on the porch light at the same time, just in case.  If they were hostile, blinding them for a few seconds would give him an advantage.

Superintendent-General Hattori’s son stood there, blinking and grimacing, holding one hand up to shield his eyes.  The other hand was wrapped around Edogawa Conan, who was sickly-pale and asleep on his shoulder.  There were a few other people with him--all kids, so far as Kansuke could tell--but the porch light wasn’t bright enough to show them all.

“What the h***!” he demanded.  Saying it out loud felt _good_.

“Uh, hi,” Hattori said, still blinking.  “So, we were, uh, working on the case--uh, your case, that is--and, um, it got a little complicated, and I remembered that you wanted updates, and--”

“Get to the point, Hattori _-san_ ,” said one of the kids Kansuke didn’t know, with an air of exasperated fondness.  

“How _much_ do you want updates, is the point?” asked another unfamiliar kid.  There was something that reminded Kansuke of Morofushi right before he pounced on a suspect in his smile, and he looked uncannily like an older Conan.  Or, come to think of it, Kudou with his hair styled differently, based on the news articles Kansuke had dug up after that talk with Heiji a few weeks back.  He squinted at the kid a little, wondering if he was in fact Kudou in a very haphazard disguise.

“Not enough to wake up this early,” he answered warily.

“Sorry,” Hattori said, looking decidedly sheepish.  “We were going to come here in the morning and talk to you, after we at least slept a little at the hotel, but the taxi ride was...rough, and after we struck out at, like, four hotels…”

“Seriously?” Kansuke asked.

“They were all full of foreign tourists and business conventions,” said the kid who definitely wasn’t Kudou.  The only resemblance this one bore to Conan was the glasses.  “Also, the third one apparently recognized his,” he glanced toward maybe-Kudou,  “mom’s credit card and refused to let us in.”

“I’m not surprised,” Hattori huffed.

“She performed up here, who says it was _her_ fault--maybe the crowd got rowdy or--” maybe-Kudou protested.

“Okay, what about tryin’ to search for a hotel online or somethin’?” Kansuke asked.  “There’s sites for for that, Uehara used one when we went to Tokyo.”

Hattori blinked. “Oh, yeah, that woulda been a good idea, huh?”

“I can’t believe none of us thought of that,” maybe-Kudou said, physically hitting himself in the forehead.

“Well, we are kind of jet-lagged,” glasses-kid said.  “But still…”

“Okay, so you came to Nagano, forgot the internet existed, and ended up on my front porch in the middle of the night,” Kansuke said.  “Great.”

“We didn’t forget it existed!” Hattori exclaimed, indignant.  “We..jus’...forgot that one specific thing ya could do wit’ it, that’s all.”

“I mean, we remembered to use it to call taxis!” maybe-Kudou pointed out.

“Is that supposed to impress him?” a fifth voice asked sardonically.  

Come to think, Kansuke could _just_ make out the edges of a tall figure behind maybe-Kudou, in the combination of the light from his porchlight and the streetlight some distance away.  He couldn’t make out features, though, but the _voice…_

Kansuke didn’t know Superintendent-General Hakuba’s kid all that well, was the thing.  He could count the number of times they’d met on one hand, and most of those times, Saguru hadn’t been that talkative.  While Kansuke had wanted to get to know the kid Tsuyoshi was so over the moon about a bit better, he’d also known enough not to push.  But the kid had still made an impression.  

Kansuke didn’t know that many British-Japanese in the first place, and the ones he did know had been born and raised in Japan.  So Saguru’s accent--standard Japanese, slowly coloring with Tokyo dialect as Saguru lived there longer, but always just slightly marked by patterns of emphasis and pronunciation that belonged to the kind of English used in those foreign period dramas Yui occasionally watched--stuck in his mind, just because it was so distinctive.  

So it went without saying that he recognized Saguru’s voice almost immediately.

“Saguru?” he asked.  “What the--” He broke off, then, because eventually after repeating the same phrase so many times, a person just started feeling silly.

“Hakuba _-san_!” maybe-Kudou snapped, wheeling around to glare at him.  “You could have at least announced yourself--or--or-- _something_!”

“At the very least, startling the man who Hattori and Kudou _warned_ us uses his cane as a weapon might not have been your best move yet,” glasses-kid put in.

Edogawa stirred slightly on Hattori’s shoulder and made a soft moaning sound, and Hattori glared over his shoulder at the other three.  “Shut it!  You’ll wake ‘im up!” he hissed.

Glasses-kid’s expression turned wide-eyed and guilty, and his mouth snapped shut.  Hakuba, still largely covered in shadow, flinched and backed up, slightly.

“Doubt that’s happening,” maybe-Kudou murmured, looking decidedly worried.

 _Case update’s one thing, but they solved the case,_ Kansuke thought.   _In the middle of the night, and I have no idea how, or why they decided to come here, and the ones I can actually see look like h***._

He stepped back from the doorway.  “Get inside.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: In the first half, further discussion of poor self-care and general mental health issues, also, depiction of someone having a flashback (depiction starts at “Hakuba still had” and ends at “into the garbage bag.”) Nothing much of note in the second half.
> 
> If you’re wondering what set off that flashback of Hakuba’s, you as a reader do technically have enough information to guess. Go back and read that tiny bit of Hakuba POV at the end of Riddle in Reverse, and it should be pretty obvious why he doesn’t react well to the smell of smoke. Also, since Kansuke’s point of view makes it impossible to explain in-text, no, I didn’t do anything that serious to Shinichi, but a massive physical transformation on top of two days of poor sleep is going to have some physical repercussions. 
> 
> ETA: I feel this should be obvious, but just in case it isn't, I am not a mental health professional, and given that Kaito flat-out says he doesn't know what he's doing, I am not making any sort of recommendation about "what you should do if someone is having a flashback." 
> 
> As a final note, I’m sorry if I haven’t replied to your review yet; I’m a bit behind. It doesn’t mean I appreciate them one bit less, though.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, to anyone who has me on Author Alert or follows me on Tumblr, sorry about all the robots. Gundam 00 Week will be over soon.
> 
> Second, large swathes of this chapter can be credited to my amazing beta miladyRanger, who helped me prep for writing this and let me use some of the scenarios and phrasing she came up with (I’d credit her with specific bits if either of us remembered who did what).
> 
> Third, it should be noted that everyone from Nagano who canonically uses a Nagano dialect has an accent, but I’m writing it as a lighter accent than Osakan, because it’s a transitional dialect between the Eastern dialects (like Shinichi & co.’s Tokyo dialect) and Heiji’s Western Kansai dialect. Thus, it may not always be noticeable in every line in characters who do not speak as...well, rudely, as Kansuke. There’s a little more about this in the end-note, if you’re interested.

The second they were invited in, the entire group dashed past Kansuke and into the living room, trailing luggage.  Every single one ignored the armchair, and they all practically collapsed in a lopsided little half-circle on the floor, with Hakuba at the center.  He didn’t miss both Hattori and not-Kudou scanning the room for quick exits, either--though he thought Hakuba might have actually managed to do it while he wasn’t looking.  A quick headcount revealed that there were five of them, total--Conan, Hattori, Hakuba Saguru, and the two whose names he didn’t know.  Well, best to fix that before he started trying to wring out explanations.

“Okay, who are you people?” he asked, settling into the armchair.  Hey, it was comfortable and also forced the kids to look up at him if they wanted to make eye contact.

Hattori blinked.  “We’ve...met before?” he said, looking confused.

Kansuke glared.  “Not _you_ , the other two, the ones who aren’t Sleepin’ Kogoro’s ward or the kid I spent the last month tryin’ to find.”

Hakuba winced.

Hattori looked decidedly nervous, even as he shifted a still-sleeping Conan into his lap.  “Uh, that’s Kuroba Kaito,” he said, gesturing to maybe-Kudou.  “He goes--went--um--well, he’s Hakuba’s classmate?”

Kuroba grinned at him like an office lady trying to get out of parking tickets.  

“And that’s Hondou Eisuke,” Hattori added, gesturing at glasses kid.  “He’s…”

“Kudou _-san_ asked me to help with the investigation,” Hondou said smoothly.

“You a detective?” Kansuke asked, curious.  The name sure wasn’t ringing any bells.

“I helped in other ways,” Eisuke said, almost primly, which wasn’t _exactly_ a “no.”  This kid required watching, clearly.

“And what about you?” Kansuke asked Kuroba, who stiffened under his gaze.  “What’d they drag a classmate all the way to Nagano to do?”

“To Nagano, right,” Kuroba said, drawing out the last word.  “I, well, basically pushed my way into the investigation?  I kept bothering them about being allowed to help until they finally let me.”

“Okay, _you_ ,” he said, turning to Hakuba, next.  The kid was decidedly skinnier than he remembered, but not as bad as Kansuke had expected.  Well, to be fair, he was alive, which was far better than Kansuke had expected to begin with, but he also looked like he’d eaten at some point in the last two months.  And slept, even, though not much.  Also, if he’d gotten hurt, it was either someplace hidden by his clothes or already healed.  That said, the look in his eyes and his posture were both wary.

“Yes?” Hakuba asked softly.

“Just what the _h***_ were you thinkin’, runnin’ off like that?” he demanded.  “You worried the h*** out of your dad!  Had those weirdo KID-chasers from Tokyo panickin’ over you, too--and for that matter, do you even realize how many officers we had on your case?  It wasn’t jus’ a few cops.  What do you have to say for yourself?”

Hakuba stared back at him, eyes wide and unsettlingly blank.

“There was a misunderstanding,” Kuroba said quietly.  “I don’t think he’s up to explaining himself right now, but he--there was some stuff he was confused about.”

“I--ah--yes,” Hakuba managed. There was still something a bit distant in his expression.

_Okay, so he’s got some mental stuff goin’ on,_ Kansuke thought.   _Now for the million-dollar-question--is it_ new _mental stuff, or the same things his dad was frettin’ over before he made a run for it?_

“You okay, kid?” he asked.

Hakuba just blinked at him.   _Real_ reassuring.

“If this is gonna be a real long conversation, is there someplace we can put Ku-Conan so he’s away from all the noise?” Hattori asked.

Probably a deliberate distraction, but that by itself was interesting, because Hattori and Hakuba did _not_ like each other.  Both of them would explain why at _length_ if asked about it.  Had something actually happened to make Hattori sympathetic to Hakuba, and if so, what?

“What’s wrong with the kid?” Kansuke asked.  “You’re all fretting over him.”

“Are we?” Kuroba asked, and he didn’t even look like he was lying, there wasn’t even a twitch of a tell.  Okay, both of the strange kids needed watching, _wonderful._

“Don’t bother; we were being obvious,” Hattori said.  “He got sick while we were in the taxi.  He jus’ needs ta sleep it off and he’ll be fine. He’d prob’ly be fine by now, but the plane ride and the way we had to leave on top o’ each other--”

“Plane ride?” Kansuke asked.  “You came here from the _airport_?”

“Yes,” Hondou said, like this should have been obvious.  “How else--”

“That’s an hour’s drive from here, at _least_ \--and there are ways to get around Japan besides flyin’,” Kansuke said.

All of the boys who were awake looked at him with varying degrees of amused incredulity.  Even Hakuba had snapped out of whatever state he’d been in, just to look at Kansuke with the exact same patronizing expression Officer Kai had used on him when he’d tried to tag along to crime scenes at Conan’s age.

Hondou was the first to actually say anything.  “We haven’t _been_ in Japan,” he said, almost laughing.  “ _I_ haven’t been in Japan for...months, goodness.”

“Then where _were_ you?”

“London,” Hakuba said, quietly.  “They tracked me there, and then came after me.  I’m sorry; they ought not to have missed school on my account.”

“That is not even _remotely_ the issue--” Kuroba started loudly.

Hattori made a hushing noise, finger to his lips, and glared daggers at him, other arm curled protectively around Conan.

“So you all just got off an international flight,” Kansuke asked, trying to process all of this.  “And Conan’s sick, and you--found Hakuba--and--I have yet to hear an answer to the _are you okay_ question, by the way.”

“There are some small lacerations on my forearm, but they’ve been bandaged,” Hakuba said quietly.  “I had an altercation with a criminal.  I am otherwise uninjured.”

_No answers about his mental state, but then again, I’m not sure what I was expecting there_ , Kansuke thought, rueful.

“An’ the rest of you?” he asked aloud.

“Kuroba’s back is hurt, so if you actually have a guest futon, he should get it,” Hattori said.  “The rest of us can probably deal with the floor.”

Hakuba’s eyes narrowed.  “It’s been two months.  I don’t expect it’s completely healed, but--”

“Ah,” Kuroba said.  “About that.”

“If I call him an idiot are you going to get insulted?” Hattori asked, which made _absolutely_ no sense, but then again, not much of this conversation made sense to begin with.

“No,” Hakuba said, expression dark.  “May I know why you are calling him that?”

Hattori opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Kuroba said, “You didn’t have a lot of time to keep up with Japanese newspapers while you were away, did you?”

Hakuba’s eyes narrowed further for a second, then flew wide with dismay.  “Kuroba _-san,_ you did _not!_ ” he exclaimed, grabbing the other boy by the arms.

“I had to talk to your dad!” Kuroba said, jerking out of his grip with a small wince.

“You--you could have--how badly were you hurt?” Hakuba asked, sounding desperately worried.

“I, uh, it reopened,” Kuroba all but whispered.

“Hattori _-san_ is right, and I cannot believe I’ve said that,” Hakuba said.  “I can’t even leave the country without you nearly getting yourself killed--”

“Would you kids mind explainin’ literally _any_ of that?” Kansuke asked, annoyed.

Kuroba and Hakuba glanced over at him in clear surprise. By their expressions, they’d forgotten about him completely.

“Alternately, what if we did not, and instead you allowed us to go to sleep immediately?” Hakuba suggested.

Kansuke didn’t dignify that suggestion with a response.

“Kuroba _-kun_ fell down some stairs and then tripped over his lack of self-preservation instincts,” Eisuke said flatly.  “It’s really best if we just leave it at that.”

“Hey!” Kuroba yelped, indignant.

“He ain’t wrong,” Hattori said flatly.  

Kansuke resisted the urge to snap at them all again.  They were coordinating this, somehow, this little barrage of information that was never quite what he wanted to know, and the only possible reason there could be for that behavior was that they really were trying to hide things.

Which was alarming, because, Hakuba aside, Hattori was a cop kid.  He had no reason not to trust Kansuke...unless this was all somehow connected to that case of Kudou’s he’d refused to talk about.  Which would explain why the five of them were in his house in the small hours of the morning being ridiculously cagey and not explaining a single thing.

“All right, you know what, I’ll let you sleep and save the rest of the questions for the morning if you give me just one straight answer,” Kansuke said slowly.

Kuroba brightened.  Hondou’s expression smoothed out into something inscrutable.  Hakuba and Hattori knew him well enough to immediately turn wary.

“Are the five of you in danger?” he asked.

Kuroba’s expression suddenly mirrored Hondou’s, except it was even more blank.  Kansuke had the sudden urge ask the kid to do it again so he could take video and use it to train the Nagano riot police, because that shift in expression was one of the most _unsettling_ things he’d seen in _weeks_.

And, okay, that thought was probably a product of exhaustion, but the point stood.  The kid’s face was creepy.

Hattori was glowering outright, Hondou’s expression hadn’t changed, and Hakuba...Hakuba’s face was doing the same thing as Kuroba’s, but Kansuke _expected_ it from him.  The kid’s face was always stuck on “blank, polite, neutral, with maybe a little disdain” so it didn’t seem weird to see it on his face.

No, the weird part had been the sudden shift.  He’d gone from a big grin to the kind of gameface most cops took a few years to develop.  

Like _h***_ he was just Hakuba’s classmate.

And none of them had answered.  Even Hattori, the eternal loudmouth, was keeping quiet.

“So you’d rather I keep askin’ questions, then?” Kansuke asked.  “Because I can do that.  But I’d like to get some sleep before morning, and I think you would, too.”

Hattori glanced at Kuroba, who slumped, just slightly, and then at Hondou, who sighed.

“Yeah, we hit a little trouble on our way out of England,” Hattori said quietly. “You said one question.  Where can we sleep?”

Kansuke grinned a bit, despite himself.  They had him there.  “Down the hall, second door to the left.  There’s a futon laid out, and there might be another one in the wardrobe.  The rest of you are on your own.”

“Right,” Hattori said.  “Bathroom?”

“End of the hall,” Kansuke said.

Hattori got to his feet smoothly, not even jostling Conan, and started down the hall.  Kuroba and Hakuba followed almost immediately, only pausing to gather the luggage.  Only Hondou hung back.

“Can I ask you a favor?” he said, hesitant, as he stood.

“You can ask,” Kansuke replied.

Hondou grinned at him, almost fondly, and said, “I don’t want you to feel any obligation to provide us with food tomorrow, but if you’re making breakfast, even just for yourself, could you perhaps avoid fish?”

“Why?” Kansuke asked, utterly baffled.

“As a favor,” Hondou said.

“But why is _that_ a favor?” Kansuke asked.  “Do you know somethin’ ‘bout the fish in my house that I don’t?”

The kid’s eyes went wide.  “No, nothing like that--why am I surrounded by paranoid people?”

“You got involved in a missing persons investigation; were you expecting optimism?” Kansuke asked.

“I guess not,” Hondou said, sounding disheartened.  “But will you do it?”

“Are you gonna explain why?” Kansuke asked.

“Not except under very extreme duress,” Hondou said brightly.

Kansuke was too tired for this.  “Fine, whatever, vegetarian breakfast.  But you kids are explainin’ yourselves tomorrow.”

“Answering questions is one thing, Inspector,” Hondou said, with a tired little laugh.  “But if you’re expecting _explanations_ for any of those guys, I’ll be waiting right along with you.”

And with that, he padded down the hallway after the others.  Kansuke listened after him, and caught a snatch of conversation as he opened the door to the spare room.

“--you said he was _sharp_ , you didn’t say he was you and _Tantei-kun_ put together, with _authority_ \--”

But the speaker--Kuroba, it sounded like--was cut off as soon as Hondou shut the door behind him.

_Well, it seems like I’ve got the kids on guard,_ Kansuke thought wryly.   _I’d feel better if they didn’t have me the same way.  Think it’s time I call in help_.

He made his way to the kitchen, hoping he was safely out of range of even the most attentive ears, and pulled out his cell phone.

He didn’t bother dialing--the right contact was easy to find.  He listened to the phone ring for about a minute before anyone picked up.

“Hello?”

“Koumei,” Kansuke said.  “I need your help.”

Morofushi’s voice was thick with sleep.  “Kansuke _-kun_?  Are you all right?  It’s--why are you callin’ me _now_?”

“I’m fine,” Kansuke said, wincing a bit.  He hadn’t meant to actually _worry_ Morofushi.  “It’s not me.  My house is full of children.”

“At this hour?” Morofushi asked, almost blandly.  “How did you manage that?”

“They showed up on my porch sayin’ they couldn’t find a hotel,” Kansuke said.

“And so you let them stay?” Morofushi asked.  “That isn’t very like you, Kansuke _-kun_ \--”

“Well, one of them’s Hakuba Saguru, so I couldn’t very well let him wander off again,” Kansuke said.

“Your missing person turned up on your porch in the middle of the night?” Morofushi asked.  Kansuke could practically _hear_ the raised eyebrow.

“The detective boy from Osaka and Mouri’s ward showed up with him,” Kansuke said.  “You remember how I said Hattori was investigatin’?  Apparently, they found him, and decided to bring him here.”

“So how many amateur detectives do you have under your roof?” Morofushi asked, sounding amused.

“I don’t actually know,” Kansuke said.  “There’s those three, and two others that claim they aren’t detectives.  I don’t believe them.”

“Really?” Morofushi sounded intrigued now.

“They’re _weird_ , and I caught at least one of them checkin’ my living room for exits,” Kansuke said.  “Which reminds me.  They’re in trouble.  The kids are.  And they’re bein’ real obvious about not wantin’ to talk details.”

“I see why you called me,” Morofushi said.  “Am I to be the good cop, or the bad?”

“I was thinkin’ we could switch off, and keep ‘em off balance,” Kansuke replied, cheered.   _I can always count on Koumei_.  “Not too off balance, though.  They’re not tellin’ me things, but it’s pretty obvious that they’re shaken up.  Especially Hakuba.”

“A lot can happen to a lone eighteen-year-old in two months,” Koumei said quietly.  

“He’s okay physically, for the most part,” Kansuke reported.  “Some cuts on his arm from a fight with a criminal, of all things, and that’s it.  But he spaced the h*** out when I asked him why he ran, and I don’t think it was because he was too tired to answer.”

“That is worryin’, yes,” Koumei said.

“Thank you for stating the obvious,” Kansuke huffed.  “The others were edgy, too.  And Conan’s apparently sick.”

“Do you even have any medicine in children’s dosages around your house?” Morofushi asked.  

“No, but they didn’t ask for any,” Kansuke said.  “Which is weird, now that I think about it more.  He was asleep, he slept through the entire conversation incudin’ some borderline yellin’, but Hattori insisted he’d be fine in the morning.”

“Odd,” Morofushi said.  “Odder still that Inspector-General Hattori’s child, of all people, would be distrustful of a police officer--”

“That’s what I thought, too!” Kansuke agreed.  “But I think this has to do with--well, I didn’t tell you at the time because Hattori was insistin’ that I didn’t tell _anyone_ , but seein’ as this situation is going out of control fast--he’s been in touch with Kudou Shinichi.”

“The one the papers call the Great Detective of the East?” Morofushi asked.  “That’s...not a secret.  Hattori and Kudou are known associates.”

“Yeah, but apparently no one should be mentionin’ it if they talk to Kudou, ‘cause the reason no one can find him recently is that he’s trying to hide from some specific, unfriendly people,”  Kansuke said.  “Hattori implied pretty heavily that those people wanted him _dead_.  He was pretty light on other details, though. I’m beginning to wonder if Kudou being involved in the investigation doesn’t have somethin’ to do with why they’re in trouble, now.  And why they won’t say a thing _about_ the trouble.”

“If Kudou were in trouble, why didn’t he simply go to the Tokyo police?” Morofushi asked.  “From what I’ve heard, he’s practically their golden child.  If even half of what rumor says they let him get away with is accurate, they should be quick to his defense...”

“Hattori wouldn’t talk about any of it inside of Osaka PD,” Kansuke said flatly.  “He was pretty d*** set on us going outside to talk about it.”  

Morofushi was quiet for a few seconds.  “Hilarious as the thought is, I don’t normally hope that you’re bein’ actively deceived by high school students.”

“Jerk,” Kansuke muttered.  “But if your deductions are headin’ the way mine are, let’s hope we’re both wrong.  And in the meantime, come over here and help me handle this. I could use a second opinion, even if it is _yours_.”

“Any other requests _?_ ” Morofushi asked, all feigned offense.

“Any spare futons you have, and...well, I don’t think I have enough food to make breakfast for all of us,” Kansuke answered.  “Just don’t bring fish.”

“Whyever _not_?”

“If I knew, I’d tell you…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for canon-typical levels of implied and actual child endangerment. Discussion of phobias and the general concepts of trauma and psychological issues. Hakuba “spaces out” once and it is not completely clear to the narrator what is happening but as readers you have enough data to surmise that he is probably having some sort of psychological episode, though what kind is left to you to conclude. Also, most of the teenagers spend the chapter feeling under threat and thus being some combination of scared and defensive, if not always obviously so. 
> 
> I imagine Kansuke’s and Morofushi’s accents in this fic sounding something like American North Jersey accents ([watch this video for an example](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xn0b5KiraAI)). It’s a light but noticeable accent that has some things in common with the dialect I’m using for Osakan but is also much less dramatic, and is more distinguishable by differences in vowel pronunciation than by the kind of syllable-dropping the accent I used for Osakan tends to feature. If you are imagining The Jersey Shore that is the wrong accent.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and please leave a review on the way out, if you like!


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am just off of a weeklong migraine, and still on the reasonably strong meds that killed it. This chapter has been checked and rechecked by miladyRanger, who is also owed credit for a lot of the ideas for this scene in general, but if there are any mistakes, please don’t be surprised. I’m surprised I’m coherent at all, honestly.
> 
> On that note, if I owe you a review reply, PM, or other such thing, it will probably be delayed until I’m a little better. Please bear with me.
> 
> Warnings at the end, as always!

For the second time since leaving Tokyo in search of Hakuba, Kudou Shinichi woke up with absolutely no idea where he was.  He was not a fan of this trend.

At least this time, he wasn’t in pain.  Well, not a lot of pain--his joints ached a bit, but not enough to be more than distracting.  Also, this time, he remembered where he’d been before he passed out pretty clearly.

That didn’t change the fact that this room was _not_ the convenience store bathroom he’d transformed in.  The ceiling was lower, for one thing, and cleaner. The walls were plain, understated wood paneling, not dingy tile.  Also, the bathroom _definitely_ hadn’t had a futon.

Where _was_ he?  They’d planned to go to a hotel, but then he should have been in a bed or on a couch, not on a futon.  But the flooring was _carpet_ , which ruled out the possibility that they’d ended up at a traditional-style inn for some reason.

Furthermore, Shinichi wasn’t wearing his watch or his glasses anymore.  He’d been disarmed.

He slitted his eyes and rolled over in bed, trying to get a better view of the room.  He could see their luggage, which was promising, and the others were all in the same room as him.  Kaito was on a futon as well, and the rest were just lying on the floor with blankets.  Hattori and Eisuke had makeshift pillows, too--at first, Shinichi thought they were blankets, but on further inspection, Hattori’s was definitely his letterman jacket and Eisuke’s looked like a sweatshirt.   The futons and blankets were promising.  Maybe they were all just asleep.

He opened his eyes just a bit more.  He could see his glasses and watch, sitting near the head of the futon.  He wanted to just grab them, but he couldn’t be sure--

Then again, with the state of current technology, a surveillance device could be made small enough to be invisible from a distance.  There was no point in looking for surveillance cameras.  He’d just have to assume someone was watching, and act accordingly.

So, time to be Conan, the harmless little kid who doesn’t know where he is but wants to be fully dressed.  

There was a banging sound from outside the room, metal against metal--it didn’t sound like a weapon, at least, but Shinichi couldn’t make out what it was.  At the noise, Hattori stirred, and sat up, then yawned hugely.

“What time’s it--” he turned toward Shinichi.  “Kudou!”

He scrambled over to the futon, never quite fully getting to his feet.  

“Good morning, Heiji _-nii-chan_!” Shinichi said brightly, keeping his eyes on the door and his hand close to his wristwatch.  “Did you hear that noise?”

“Kudou?” Hattori asked, looking incredibly worried.  “Oh, _d***_ , we tried to do a concussion check last night but ya were already out--look, whaddya remember?”

“My name is _Conan_ ,” Shinichi emphasized.

Hattori looked at him oddly.  “Oh, yer jus’ doin’ the kid act?  But _why_?  We’re in private!”

“Where _are_ we, then?” Shinichi asked, not relaxing one bit.  “We were going to go to a hotel.  This isn’t a hotel.”

Hattori cursed again.  “Oh, yeah, I guess that’d freak you out.” He rubbed at the back of his neck.  “We couldn’t find one, so we jus’ went straight to the inspector’s house.  We’re in his spare room.”

Shinichi blinked.  Readjusted.  Blinked again.   _“How_?” he managed.

Hattori let out a low laugh.  “Well, showin’ up wit’ the missin’ person he’s been lookin’ for didn’t hurt none,” he said.  “But he wanted to know who everyone was and why we came _here_.”

“And you told him?” Shinichi pressed.

“Kuroba _-han’_ s a concerned classmate, Hondou _-han_ helped with the case but ain’t a detective,” Hattori listed off, counting off on his fingers.  “And...we had to admit that we hit trouble in London.  It was that, or he kept askin’ questions.  An’ we were all too tired ta keep lyin’ well.  We didn’t specify the kind of trouble, though.”

“I imagine he’ll attempt to get to that at breakfast,” Shinchi said, already feeling exhausted.

“Prob’ly,” Hattori admitted, downcast.

“Don’t be hard on yourself; I was even less help than you were,” Shinichi said.

“Yeah, ‘cause you passed out,” Hattori said.  “Wasn’t the antidote s’posed to last longer than that? An’ I thought it wasn’t makin’ ya pass out ev’ry time anymore, now!”

“I think probably the fact that I hadn’t been sleeping well and had been injured recently meant that my body wasn’t in optimal condition,” Shinichi admitted.  “I’d have to ask Haibara to be certain, but I imagine that’s the reason behind it.”

“Still, try an’ not do that again, will ya?” Hattori asked.  “Ya scared the heck outta all of us. An’ all o’ that work ya did at the airport ta keep Hakuba an’ Hondou from bein’ around when it happened pretty much went down the drain.”

“What even happened?” Shinichi said.  “It all got kinda confusing after you panicked and shouted for the cab driver to stop.”

“The driver pulled into a gas station a few miles up the road, Hattori _-san_ and I practically carried you into the convenience store there while Kuroba _-san_ paid the cab driver and tipped him generously enough that he would ignore you apparently going to have a heart attack in a public bathroom,” Hakuba said, as both Hattori and Shinichi glanced over in surprise.  “Hondou _-san_ then called another cab.”  He paused.  “You screamed for quite a while.  Is it...always…”

Shinichi swallowed.  “Not...always,” he said quietly.  

Hakuba’s expression flattened.  “I see.”

“Morning, everyone!” Kaito said, from nearby, a yawn still in his voice. “I had this weird dream that we went to a police officer’s house…”

“We both know that wasn’t a dream,” Hakuba said, lips twitching with amusement.

“We could pretend it was, and leave now?” Kaito suggested.

“Uuuugh, shut up,” Eisuke groaned.  “No one’s gonna get arrested lemme sleep.”

“Sorry, Hondou _-san,_ I think it’s time we all woke up,” Hakuba said apologetically.  “We’ll be better off if we have our story straight before we go to breakfast.”

Eisuke muttered grumpily but sat up, his hair sticking up in all directions, and put on his glasses.

“So, ground rules, _no one mentions KID_ ,” Kaito said.

“Actually, it might be better if we do,” Shinichi said.  Kaito stared at him, aghast, and he held up his hands. “As someone separate from you.  The superintendent-general asked KID to help look for Hakuba, remember?  And he and Inspector Yamato are friends.  So we say KID helped us and we parted ways in London.  You now have an alibi and we have a source for things we aren’t supposed to know.”

“This also puts you on record as having worked with a thief,” Kaito said.

“With Yamato Kansuke, who only follows police regulations as long as they help him solve cases,” Shinichi said.  “He _really_ won’t care.”

“Could we say we split with Shinichi in London, too?” Eisuke asked.  “Since Hattori _-san_ mentioned to Inspector Yamato that you were involved?”

Shinichi tried for a grin, and probably fell short.  “It’s practically true; why not?”

Hattori winced, and squeezed his shoulder.

Kaito turned to Hakuba.  “You remember what we told you on the flight, about all of that?”

“Inspector Yamato is aware that Kudou _-san_ is in hiding because he is in some sort of potentially lethal trouble, and that your reasons for keeping the police out of the case involved a witness who was avoiding them for some reason,” Hakuba said.  “Correct?”

Eisuke nodded.  “Okay, what else?”

“You have broken a lot of laws,” Kaito said, looking at Hakuba, with a slight hysterical edge to his tone.  “You have broken more laws than me.  We should probably avoid mentioning that.”

“He knows ya left the country without a passport or money,” Hattori said.

“The rest, though, it might be best to leave unsaid,” Hakuba said.  “In particular, Eisuke, if you could avoid references to having met me as a woman, that might be best.  It could cause problems for Father if he jumps to the wrong conclusions, and it could compromise my ability to return to my life as Hakuba Saguru if he jumps to the _right_ ones.”

“Huh?” Hattori asked.

“If someone finds out that I have skill in disguises, just what do you think will happen if they look closely?” Hakuba snapped.  “Time travel did _not_ alter my appearance; I did.”

Hattori flinched.  “Ah, yeah, right.”

“Guys, please?” Eisuke asked, holding up his hands.

“What do we tell him about London, though?” Kaito asked.  “He knows we were in danger but we _can’t_ tell him the truth about why.”

Shinichi winced.  “Hakuba was investigating something while he was running and accidentally poked the local organized crime?”

“Does London even have organized crime anymore?” Eisuke asked.

“Yes,” Hakuba said.  

“Well then,” Shinichi said.

“It’s not even completely untrue,” Kaito said.

“Yeah, but it ain’t the whole truth an’ Yamato knows when people are tryin’ ta pull somethin’ on ‘im,” Hattori said darkly.

“Maybe so,” Hakuba said.

“We’re probably going to end up telling him more than we want to,” Shinichi said.  “We just have to make sure that when we do tell him things we didn’t mean to, they’re the kind of things that won’t get anyone arrested or killed.”

“If you give the Detective Boys these kinds of pep talks, it’s a miracle they’re still friends with you,” Kaito huffed.

“Maybe the delivery was lacking, but he does have a point--” Hakuba started.

There was a knock at the door.  “Everyone dressed?” Kansuke asked from outside.

Shinichi glanced around, started to answer, then remembered that he probably shouldn’t be taking the lead right now.  He looked at Hattori, who stared back for a few seconds before anything like realization showed up on his face.

“Oh!  Uh, yeah, we’re wearing clothes,” Hattori said quickly.

Hakuba quietly pressed his hand over his face, not quite hiding his exasperated expression.

“Good,” Kansuke said, sliding the door open.  “I called Koumei over to help with breakfast, so there’s food in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

Shinichi froze, caught between the sudden realization that he was pretty much starving, and the knowledge that getting food meant facing not only Kansuke, but also his _backup_.  

“Koumei?” Kaito asked politely.

Kansuke glowered for a second.  Shinichi suspected he was trying to avoid the word “friend.”

“They went to elementary school together, and now they’re both policemen!” he said, putting on a big, excited smile.

Kaito made a faint noise of horror, then put on a fake smile of his own.  “Nice of him to come over and help!”

Kansuke grinned back, but his expression was more watchful than friendly.  And he wasn’t moving from the doorway.

“So, breakfast is _now_ , huh?” Hattori asked, after a few seconds.

“Yep!” Kansuke said pleasantly, as if he weren’t all but forcing them to come.

Hakuba sighed, and stood. And, well, if Hakuba was going to face this, the rest of them might as well back him up.  Shinichi smoothed out his clothes--not his preferred blazer and shorts, but a comfortable hoodie, t-shirt, and jeans--and followed everyone else out of the room.

From his height, it was easy to see how stiff Kaito’s movements were.  Apparently even the futon wasn’t enough to help his back.  Eisuke was shuffling tiredly, while Hattori was already fully awake.  Hakuba, meanwhile, seemed stiff but fully aware--he was bracing himself, once again.

Well.

This would be fun.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Kansuke’s kitchen table wasn’t meant to seat this many people, much less accommodate this much food.  

He hadn’t _meant_ for Koumei to come over with three folding chairs and ingredients for what amounted to a mostly traditional breakfast.  He usually just bought premade miso soup and dipped toast in it, then drank enough coffee to keep him awake until he could get to the station and drink _more_ coffee.  If he was feeling ambitious, sometimes he fried an egg.

But Koumei was a showoff who actually kept extra _natto_ in his fridge, and could make cold tofu taste good.  He also lived near a 24-hour-convenience store, so he’d picked up enough extra eggs that they could make rolled omelets for everyone.  Kansuke had ceded the stovetop to him, and taken charge of making the rice and heating up the rest of the miso soup in the microwave.

He just hoped none of them were going to complain about the _natto_.  He knew the younger generation wasn’t uniformly fond of it, but it was free food and they should be grateful, dangit.

“Smells great,” Hondou said softly.  

_At least one of them’s happy,_ Kansuke thought cheerily, gesturing to the makeshift table.  “Hey, come on, sit.  Coffee will be ready in a sec-- _not_ for you, Conan, it’ll stunt your growth.”

“That’s not--” Conan started, in what was very nearly a whine.

“No,” Hattori said, tone flat.  “I am not doing this again.”

Conan slumped, pouting.  He at least seemed to be in decent health, despite whatever had been wrong with him last night.

Kuroba, meanwhile, was sitting down, but his attention was on Hondou.  “Been awhile, huh?”

Hondou, on further inspection, looked decidedly wistful, and was biting his lip hard enough to turn the skin white.  His eyes were just a bit bright.

“Yeah,” he said, voice still soft, and just a bit strained, as he sat down beside Kuroba.  “This kind of stuff’s expensive overseas, and the time and effort to make multiple dishes for breakfast--”

“Not really worth it when you’re living alone,” Kuroba said, smile gentle.  “Hey, enjoy it while it’s here, right?”

Hondou nodded.

“Where _do_ you live?” Koumei asked, from the stove, where he was finishing the last omelet.

“Uh, America!” Eisuke said, looking a bit startled.  “Um, in Virginia, if you’re familiar…”

“I’ve heard of it,” Koumei said.

“I didn’t know they had kids live alone when they got older over there,” Kansuke said.  “I’ve known Americans who said they were surprised we did it.”

“No, it’s not too common,” Eisuke said, matter-of-factly.  Then, he brightened, and looked toward Koumei.  “Thank you very much for the food!”

Kansuke despaired.   _Well now I can’t very well ask him if his parents are around, but...he’s a weird kid, and he’s near Hakuba, and if his weird has anything to do with why Hakuba was in London of all places I want to_ know.

“You’re welcome, ah, Hondou _-kun_ , was it?” Koumei said, smiling.  He’d ended up beside Kansuke and across the table from Hondou.  Next to Hondou was Kuroba, then Hakuba, who faced Hattori, with Conan sandwiched between the Osakan and Kanske himself.

Hondou smiled back, and nodded.  “Inspector Yamato told us your name was Koumei.  How should we address you?”

Koumei shot Kansuke a look.  “My name is Morofushi; Koumei is a nickname.  You may address me as Inspector Morofushi, if you wish.”

“Where’d you get the nickname?” Kuroba asked, looking curious.

Koumei smirked.  “My given name is Takaaki,” he said.

Kuroba frowned for a second, then blinked, and then a wide smile spread across his face.  “You have the best name,” he said, very seriously.  “I want it.”

“No,” Hattori said, in equal seriousness.

“I wouldn’t actually…” Kuroba protested.  “But seriously, it’s the best pun--it’s a Romance of the Three Kingdoms reference, right--Takaaki’s written the same as Zhuge Liang’s courtesy name?”

“That’s right,” Morofushi said, obviously pleased.  “You must have some considerable skill with wordplay, to work that out so quickly.”

“I dabble,” Kuroba said, and there was something secretive to the grin on his face.  It turned wide and open, again, though, as he turned to Hakuba.  “You could have done so much better.”

“I happen to like my name,” Saguru said, a hint of warning to his expression.  “And you have ample opportunity to make jokes about how much time I spend _searching_ for KID.”

Kuroba made a very odd face at that.  Kansuke had no idea what was going on there, and had no reason to believe asking about it would get him any of the information he needed, so he decided to ignore it.

Instead, he turned to Conan.  “How’re you feeling?”

“Much better!” Conan all but chirped.  

Kansuke directed a skeptical look at Hattori.  

“He’s really better,” Hattori said.  “Told you he’d sleep it off.”

Koumei, meanwhile, rinsed off the pan at the sink and sat down, carefully carrying his own plate.  “Does that happen often?”

Conan squirmed in place a bit.  “I get colds a lot, but I think it was just because we travelled so much, and I didn’t sleep good at the hotel, and I got heat exhaustion--”

“Is that what you meant by ‘give Conan _-kun_ the dehydration lecture’?” Hakuba interrupted, looking up from his rice with an expression of alarm.

Eisuke nodded.  “He wasn’t drinking enough, and then, he, well, _that_ happened…” he trailed off, and made a vague gesture with his chopsticks that Hakuba nodded at.  “That’s how we met Officer Hashimoto and the others from Deptford Station.”

“You should take better care of yourself, Conan- _kun_ ,” Hakuba said, severely.

Conan raised an eyebrow at him.

“What I do or do not do is immaterial here, we are discussing _you,_ ” Hakuba said, frowning.

_So he wasn’t taking care of himself, the kids know, and they aren’t happy,_  Kansuke thought.   _Not surprising, really.  But what happened to Conan, and why are they talking around it?_

“What’s Deptford Station?” Koumei asked.

“The particular part of Scotland Yard I once worked with,” Hakuba said.  “Their information was the reason these lot found me.”

“And Officer Hashimoto’s the one who talked him into coming home!” Kaito said cheerily.  There was something downright uncanny about that broad grin of his.

“He had me under the impression I wouldn’t be interrogated upon arrival,” Hakuba said darkly.  

“We’re all in this together, so try to cheer up, won’t you?” Kaito replied, still grinning, but there was a distinct edge to his voice.

Hakuba glared at him.

And then the coffeemaker beeped, and all five of the kids flinched.

Kansuke glanced at Koumei, to make sure that he’d caught that confirmation that their young guests were on edge.  Koumei’s frown tightened in a way that said he had.

Koumei stood up.  “I’ll assume that everyone except Conan wants a cup?”

“Oh, believe me, he wants one too,” Hattori muttered.

“So, about whatever trouble you ran into in London,” Kansuke drawled.  “I think now would be a _great_ time to go into some detail.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: In the first half, depiction of paranoia and hypervigilance occurring as a symptom of PTSD and as a result of circumstances, general poor coping mechanisms, and police officers being portrayed and perceived as a threat due to circumstances. In the second half, what amounts to a police interrogation (albeit an informal one), discussion of child endangerment, discussion of poor self-care practices, and depiction of hypervigilance.
> 
> Again, I am tired and not entirely well, it is more possible tonight than usual that I may have missed something. If I have, please let me know. Thanks for reading, and please do leave me a review if you’re enjoying this!


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early chapter, with minimal notes! Last update's migraine was followed by a cold but now I am going on vacation so early chapter before I end up in the land of no wifi. As is, posting from bus wifi, heh.
> 
> By next chapter I will have a new job; posting times may be affected so please keep an eye on my blog around that time if you’re super-concerned. There is some [art of Kaito](http://ninthfeather.tumblr.com/post/160020572710/manga-update-random-art-inspiration-sketch) on tumblr, also.
> 
> This chapter exists because miladyRanger is an awesome beta. Warnings in the end-note, as always.

Hakuba ducked his head.  “I ran afoul of some of the organized crime there,” he said.  “Their arrival coincided with my realizing how serious the trouble I was in had become.  If they hadn’t arrived, I might have simply gone to ground, but it’s a bit more difficult to do that with three other foreigners and a child in tow.”

“I should think,” Koumei said sedately, pouring coffee into Kansuke’s collection of chipped mugs.  “Comin’ to Nagano seems an odd solution, though.”

“We didn’t exactly look for Hakuba quietly,” Eisuke said.  “If someone was looking for him, or people who were looking for him, they would get our names and descriptions pretty quickly.  And Hattori _-san_ and Hakuba _-san_ are minorly famous; so’s Kuroba _-san_ , in the right circles.”

Kansuke glanced at him, taken aback.

Kuroba pulled a string of handkerchiefs out of his sleeve with a little flourish. “I’m a magician.  Dad was world-famous; I’m technically professional-level but everyone keeps telling me I have to stay in school and graduate before I start touring.” 

Eisuke just nodded; this was obviously not news to him.  “Even Conan _-kun_ has a bit of a reputation, after all those KID heists.  It wouldn’t be hard to figure out who at least one or two of us were, and that our most likely destinations were Osaka or Tokyo.”

“So if they went to the airport and got at the flight manifests, we could be easily found,” Hakuba said.  “The obvious solution was not to go to either of those places.  And while I suppose we could have gone to Osaka from Sapporo…”

“Mom and Dad woulda kicked the rest of them out on their ears while they were groundin’ me, which wouldn’t’ve really helped things, especially when Conan already wasn’t feelin’ good on the flight over.”

“You still have to go home sometime,” Kansuke pointed out.

“I’ll live with however I get punished, _after_ I know ev’ryone else is home safe,” Hattori said flatly.  “Or at least on their way.”  He ran a hand through his hair.  “I knew this was gonna land me in hot water, but it was important enough ta do anyhow.”

Kansuke nodded; he could respect that attitude even if he didn’t agree with Hattori’s assessment of the situation.

“As glad as I am and his father will be to have Hakuba _-kun_ back, doesn’t it strike you as even a bit unreasonable to drop everythin’ and leave for London to find a missin’ person whom you had no reason to believe was in danger?” Koumei asked, disapproving, as he began bringing over the coffee.

Hattori seemed confused by the question.  He glanced at Conan, of all people, who glared back at him before turning to Kuroba.

“We found him, but we didn’t think we’d be able to find him again, and we didn’t think it would work if we just contacted the local police,” Kuroba said.

“Why am I not surprised that you tried to bypass the police?” Kansuke asked.  He turned toward Hattori, and considered his next words, then decided the risk of pushing too far was worth it.  “That story you told me about Kudou and the other witness who wouldn’t come to the police was crock, wasn’t it? You were just trying to keep the adults out of your case.”

He’d expected Hattori to explode, and he’d half-expected a reaction from Hakuba, too--that was why he’d said it in the first place.  But he’d expected the same anger that was on Hattori’s face, not a quickly-buried flash of grief or guilt, gone too fast to really be identified.  And he sure as _h***_ hadn’t expected to watch Conan fight down the kind of anger that Kansuke had only seen him direct at culprits in _seconds_ before making a childish racket in defense of his _nii-chans--_ Hattori and Kudou both.

Hondou, however, kept his head.  “He didn’t lie, but we split off from both of them in London, so how would we prove it?”

“If the situation was as precarious as you said…” Koumei began, sitting down.

“They were looking for Hakuba, not the rest of us,” Kuroba said smoothly, expression absolutely placid.  “Didn’t we say?  And while the rest of us needed to return to normal life on something like a regular time frame, those two don’t have our obligations.”

Kansuke had to hand it to the kid, he was an excellent liar.  But there was a giant hole in his story, and also Hattori was practically gaping at him, impressed in a way that he wouldn’t be if he knew he was listening to the truth.

“So if you were returning to your normal lives, what’s the American doing here?” he asked.

Hondou blinked.  Opened his mouth.  Slumped.  “It’s complicated.  And involves Kudou’s mother attempting to do me a favor.”

“Does it now?” Kansuke pressed.  “Pretty weird favor.”

“I thought so too,” Hondou agreed.

 _What the h***_ , Kansuke thought, slowly realizing he’d been led off on another conversational tangent, and arrived at the end of it with almost no usable information.  _Yes, I know they’re lying, but not about what.  They can’t just come here with ‘case updates’ and then tell me nothing!_

“You are lyin’ to us,” Koumei said flatly. 

Kuroba’s false smile was more plastered-on than ever.  “Yes.”

“What’s the point?” Kansuke demanded.  “We’re the police.  We can _help_.  I already let you have a d*** sleepover in my spare room, didn’t I?  What is _with_ you kids?”

Kuroba’s expression just stayed cheerily blank, Hondou only worried his lower lip slightly, Hakuba took a sudden interest in the food he’d been picking at, and Conan just stared back as if Kansuke was the one being unreasonable.  Only Hattori actually reacted, and a slightly guilty expression wasn’t _information_.  It wasn’t enough.

He was about to give it another shot when Koumei spoke.

“‘Be very careful whom you trust. Fear everyone, guard against everyone.’  So said Zhuge Liang’s letter to Meng Da, who was at Xingcheng.” He gave Hakuba a careful look.  “It seems none of you have any need of such advice, however.  You’re already wary.  What is it that you’re runnin’ from?”

Hakuba ducked his head further.

Kansuke sat up in his chair.  “You told me he didn’t leave under duress!” he snapped at Hattori.

“He didn’t!” Hattori protested.

“Then why are you all checkin’ for exits and jumpin’ at noises like you expect somethin’s gonna come out of the woodwork and bite you?” Kansuke asked.  “Don’t feed me some story about London’s organized crime, at least not one without details.  Something _happened_ , to get things to this point.  And you’re all mixed up--”

He stopped short, realization hitting _hard_.

“You’re mixed up in Kudou’s case, aren’t you?” he asked.

Hakuba looked up quickly, eyes wide and face absolutely bloodless; Conan was in a similar state.  Kuroba looked like he was preparing to make a break for it.  Hattori’s expression had turned mulish, while Hondou just looked resigned.

None of those reactions indicated that he was wrong.  He didn’t like this one bit.

“That’s why you risked getting Kudou involved in the first place, isn’t it,” Kansuke said, gaining momentum.  “Because Hakuba was already mixed up in the same case, somehow.  And it’s why the _heck_ you decided to consult with an American in the first place--but are you seriously trying to tell me the case _wasn’t_ why you ran?”

Hakuba took a breath.  His hands were shaking.  “It wasn’t.  It’s nothing to do with you, Inspector, nothing at all, so please--”

“Look, if there’s a bunch of kids running around and poking something that put one of them into hiding, it’s sure as _h***_  my business, thank you,” Kansuke said sharply.  “I know you kids are detectives, but there’s a time and place to leave things to the authorities--”

“No,” Conan said, voice trembling, just slightly.  “You’re wrong.  This has nothing to do with my _nii-chan’s_ case and if it did it wouldn’t be your business and I think it’s time for us to _go_.” 

“Excellent idea Conan _-kun_ ,” Kuroba said, with that creepy smile right back in place, and his hand was suddenly inching backward like he was going for a weapon.

Koumei noticed _that_ right away, and raised his hands quickly.  “Perhaps we could take the time to discuss this...”

Kansuke, meanwhile, tried to figure out whether he’d be able to follow through if he tried jumping the table to grab whatever the kid was carrying.

The other kids noticed the change in atmosphere immediately, of course, but seemed confused.  Kuroba, however, didn’t move an inch, until Conan fixed him with a glare and cleared his throat.

Kuroba blinked, and looked more puzzled than anything.

“Kuroba- _san,_ when a person who has been cornered attempts to pull something from their pocket, most police officers are trained to expect something other than magic supplies,” Hakuba said, a breathy, almost hysterical edge to his voice. 

Kuroba startled so badly his chair creaked with the movement and then started spilling denials like someone had actually accused him.  “N-no, I wouldn’t--s***--it’s a freakin’ smoke bomb I was gonna use it as a distraction you can see it if you want-- _no guns ever no._ ”

“Breathe, Kuroba _-san_ ,” Hakuba said. 

“He’s telling the truth,” Hondou said.  “He did the same thing the first time we met, because the topic of conversation made him uncomfortable enough that he needed to leave.”

Kuroba flushed.

“I get why,” Hondou said, completely casual.  “It’s fine.  If _I’d_ had a way to leave faster back then I would’ve used it.”

 _Wow, but the Hondou kid is good at defusing the rest of them,_ Kansuke thought.  _And at getting me off track!_

“Kudou’s case,” he said flatly.  “You’re all involved.”  It wasn’t a question, and they all knew it.

Surprisingly, it was Hakuba that replied, drawing himself up shakily.  “And you can’t be.”

“Excuse me?” Koumei asked sharply.

“You’re right, I have been involved in the case Kudou went into hiding over,” Hakuba said.  “And I’m telling you to leave it alone.”

Kansuke bristled.  “And I’m telling you we aren’t--”

“Do you _want_ to die?” Hakuba bit out, still pale.  “Because that’s what you’re asking.  You’re asking me to assist you in getting _killed_.”

Kuroba put a hand on his shoulder.  Hakuba flinched, then shrugged it off. 

“What are you talking about?” Kansuke asked slowly.

“Official police involvement won’t end well,” Hondou said.  “Not for you, and not for other people, either.”

“And so we should leave the matter to a group of adolescents and a child,” Koumei said flatly.

“And so ya should leave things to the people who’re already involved,” Hattori corrected firmly.  “We ain’t the only ones, but--”

“Let me guess, more secrets?” Kansuke asked.

Hattori nodded.

“I’m asking you again, there’s an adult here somewhere, right?” Kansuke asked, feeling exhausted. 

“There are multiple adults,” Kuroba said.  “Just not physically present right now.  It’s being handled.  But, not by you.  Please?”

“Look, kids, I know it can be scary the first time someone threatens someone you work with, but there’s a world of difference between what Kudou can handle and what we can--” Kansuke broke off as he heard giggling.

“What exactly is funny?” he demanded, glaring at Kuroba.

Kuroba just glanced at Hakuba and whispered, “ _First time_ ,” then began giggling again.

Hakuba looked scandalized, let out a snort, and then looked surprised at himself.  Next to him, Hattori snickered a little too loudly. Conan was rolling his eyes, and Hondou had the palm of his hand pressed to his face.

“Guys, you’re being disturbing again,” Hondou said.

“Seriously, half of us are homicide detectives, you really think that would’ve been a first?” Hattori asked, tone still very nearly laughing.  “That _happens_.  But the thing is, right after they said they’d kill Kudou, they made a pretty good attempt at it.  Good enough that they left thinkin’ he _was_ dead.”

 _Well f***_ , Kansuke thought.

“So it’s less that Kudou _-san_ is in hiding and more that he’s attempting to play ‘missing, presumed dead,’ for the time being,” Hakuba said.  “And even then, it’s mostly remarkable that he survived, and that he was near our age.  Not that he was nearly murdered.  Most encounters with this case do eventually end that way.”

The look on his face was disturbing, a mix of grief and confusion.  Kansuke had seen looks like that on the faces of people who’d lived through natural disasters, but weren’t sure why _they’d_ lived.

“Who’d you lose, then?” he asked, trying for ‘gently.’

“All of them,” Hakuba said, staring down at the table. 

Kuroba grabbed his shoulder again, and then shoved a poker deck, of all things, into his hands, muttering something that sounded like the date at a volume Kansuke could only barely make out.  Hakuba barely reacted, only tensing a bit in response.

“We found out in London that Hakuba’s life before coming to Japan was a bit more...eventful...than he’d led people to believe,” Eisuke said quickly, in an undertone.  “He should probably talk to someone about it.”

“Ya think?” Kansuke asked.

Hondou’s eyes narrowed.  “If he chooses to, yes.”

“Is anyone going to remark on the fact that Conan _-kun_ has been present for this entire conversation?” Koumei asked.  “Including the part where we discussed his older cousin’s near death?”

“I knew about that,” Conan said, quite flatly, and for the first time it occurred to Kansuke that maybe they should all be a little more concerned about the kid’s precociousness, instead of just flat-out fascinated by it.  “Don’t try to baby me.”

“We weren’t, but...isn’t it upsettin’?” Koumei asked carefully.

“He’s okay now, isn’t he?” Conan muttered, suddenly defensive.  “I’m fine.”

Hattori made a noise like someone had just hit him.  “Ku-Conan- _kun--”_

Conan glared at him, hunching up his shoulders a bit in his seat.  He was clearly _not_ fine, but any efforts to point that out obviously wouldn’t be well-received

“And you two are involved in this how, exactly?” Kansuke asked, looking from Hondou to Kuroba.

Kuroba looked up from worrying over Hakuba to exchange a very uncomfortable glance with Hondou.  Hondou grimaced.

“It’s a long story?” Kuroba tried.

Kansuke just glowered.

“We didn’t even pretend to be surprised at anything about Kudou; they know we’re involved somehow,” Eisuke said.  “But--” he broke off, biting his lip.

“Yeah,” Kuroba said.

Eisuke swallowed.  “We both...lost people,” he said.  “And since then, our families have gotten mixed up in the whole thing pretty well.”

“That’s a good way of putting it,” Kaito said, voice very nearly hushed.

“So now we’re involved, whether we want to be or not,” Hondou said.  “And if given a choice, I’d rather know things, you know?”

 _Think I’ve got an answer about where Hondou’s parents are,_ Kansuke thought.  _Kuroba mentioned his dad bein’ famous past-tense, and given circumstances, I don’t think it was because the guy suddenly got unpopular.  The h*** have I gotten into here?_

“But you won’t tell me anything about these people?” Kansuke said.

“You’ll die trying to arrest them,” Hakuba said, rough-voiced, in a tone of absolute certainty.  “People die for just knowing that they exist; openly going against them is courting death.”

Kuroba straightened, attention suddenly off Kansuke.  “Then just _what_ were you doing?”

“I wasn’t being _open_ ,” Hakuba said, as if the entire idea of openness offended him.

 _Then again, given how he acts…_ Kansuke thought. 

“So, am I to assume that your choice to leave London for here, rather than Tokyo, had somethin’ to do with all of this?” Koumei asked.

“Hakuba _-san_ spent the last two months orchestrating large-scale arrests of these people,” Kuroba said.  “But when we caught up with him, we did something that had a chance of tipping them off to the fact that he was the one doing all the arresting.  So we ran for someplace they wouldn’t be expecting us.”

“So that’s it?” Kansuke asked, incredulous.  “You ran off to arrest people?  You can do that at home!”

Koumei and Conan gave him the exact same glare, even as Hakuba’s body language turned just a hair more hunched and withdrawn. 

“I...that really wasn’t why I left,” Hakuba said haltingly, never once making eye contact.  “There were some things which I misunderstood. Regarding myself, and my place in Ekoda.  It’s been cleared up now, I think.”

“Better be,” Kansuke said.  “You worried the h*** out of your old man, you know that?”

“So I have been told,” Hakuba said, eyes still on the table.

“We’re gonna get him home,” Kuroba said, meeting Kansuke’s eyes.  “We are.  We just couldn’t go straight there.  Someone would’ve been waiting at the airport, and if he was with us, they would have known it was him behind the arrests.”

“Just from that?” Kansuke demanded.  “What the _f***_ kind of game of spy versus spy are you kids playing?” 

Hondou snorted, looking amused for half a second.  “It’s classified,” he said, utterly deadpan.

“You’re just screwing with me, at this point,” Kansuke accused.

Hondou and Kuroba offered him wide, bright grins that were a bit too close to matching for comfort. 

“Possibly,” Hondou chirped.

Kuroba’s smile was a bit strained around the edges, and next to him, Hakuba was flicking through the card deck he’d been handed earlier with the kind of careful deliberateness that meant he was trying to focus on it instead of something else.  Conan was tucking into his food, head bent low over his plate so his bangs shaded his eyes, and Kansuke would bet a week’s wages he was doing that on purpose.  Hattori wasn’t eating, but he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation either--he was just sort of sitting there, staring at his food, though he was at least tuned-in enough to wince at Conan’s chopsticks clattering against the edge of his bowl.

Hondou was trying to get them to ease off the interrogation, and it seemed he had the right of it.  If they pushed these kids much more it was probably going to end in screaming or tears, and Kansuke really did not want to handle either of those things.

He stood, trying to ignore the way that every single kid flinched at the chair screeching against the tile floor.  “Hey, Koumei, are the futons still in your car?”

Koumei blinked at him for a second, before his gaze sharpened with comprehension.  “Why, yes, I believe they are.  Shall we go get them?”

“You guys keep eating, we’ll be back,” Kansuke said. 

Time to go get his friend’s opinion on this mess.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

If Vermouth inhaled deeply enough, she could smell a hint of chemicals in the sweetness of the whipped cream topping her cappuccino.  It was one of the things she appreciated about chain-store coffees--it added just the right touch of bitterness to the drink.

So she let the chaos of Tokyo International Airport wash over her and sipped her coffee.  The next inbound flight from London wasn’t due for a while yet, so she could afford to relax and wait for the caffeine to kick in.

Previously, she’d had an underling doing this, and another hacking the security cameras around the arrival gates, but her watch here had just moved up in priority, because Gin’s people in London had turned in a report.  They hadn’t said outright that her information was bad, but they’d implied it, repeatedly, and in multiple phrasings.

Typical, of course, of members of the organization with loyalty to _Gin_.

She knew her information wasn’t bad--in fact, she suspected that this meant that whoever had been causing the organization trouble had met up with her little Silver Bullet, who had no doubt conveyed her warning to them.  Which hopefully meant they’d stop with the outright, large-scale arrests, but Edogawa gaining them as an ally could be...problematic.

Her Silver Bullet had a reckless streak that didn’t need one bit of fuel from an outsider.  And that person was deadset on chasing the person behind these arrests down; if they got Edogawa caught up in that chase with someone other than Vermouth at the helm, he could end up out of commission permanently, and that just wouldn’t do.

So, she had to take care of this, and quickly.  Edogawa wouldn’t like it, but he was a big boy, or at least he _had_ been, at one point.  He’d recover.

“Oh, my, Chris Vineyard?”

Vermouth looked up, swallowing a groan.   _Not autographs, not now.  I should have worn a full disguise instead of just a wide-brimmed hat and glasses._

She plastered on a smile, which was fortunate, because when she looked up, she recognized the speaker, and not as a reporter or one of the fanclub presidents, either.

 _Kuroba Chikage_ , she thought, and swallowed a single, errant pang of guilt.

“I don’t know if your mother ever mentioned me, but I was married to her teacher,” Chikage said, grinning and adjusting the shopping bag slung over her shoulder. 

“She said your name once or twice,” Vermouth acknowledged, slipping into the role she’d created for herself. “I don’t know if you were aware, but the two of us were on bad terms when she died.”

“I’d heard,” Chikage said, undaunted.  “But I still wanted to say hello. I’d heard you were shooting a film in Japan, but coming by the film set would have been too much trouble, so it’s lucky I ran across you!”

“Lucky how?” Vermouth asked, suspicious.

“Well, I wanted to meet you!” Chikage said.  “Since you learned from Sharon and she learned from my husband!” She squinted at Vermouth.  “You _really_ look like her.”

“So I’ve been told,” Vermouth said, in the flat tone of someone who’s heard something a dozen times and doesn’t want to hear it again.  “What brings you to the airport?”

“Oh, I decided to stop by the duty-free store,” Chikage said.  “There were some things I wanted to pick up.  I _was_ going to do it when my son flew in from visiting a relative a few prefectures over, but he got caught up in something and now I guess he’s taking a train back.” She sighed.  “So I just decided to make the trip out here myself.”

“Your son?” Vermouth had faint memories of a small boy that looked a bit like Toichi occasionally sneaking backstage during performances, but she’d never paid the boy much mind.  Later on, she’d seen surveillance files for a Kuroba Kaito, and while she’d never been _happy_ about the matter, she’d hardly had the power to get anyone to stop that.

“Oh, yes, Kaito, he’s a dear boy,” Chikage said.  “Probably a bit shaken up right now, poor thing.  Apparently he stumbled right into the middle of one of that Hattori boy’s cases--oh!  You’re not in the country much, Hattori Heiji’s a homicide detective, but he’s still in _high_ _school_ , can you imagine, I don’t know what the Osakan Superintendent-General is thinking, letting his son--Well, anyway, Kaito ran across him somehow, he wasn’t very _coherent_ on the phone, and I think it got a bit, well…” her voice dropped to a whisper, “ _violent_.”

Vermouth sat up straight.  Her sources in the police rumor mill placed Hattori _with_ Edogawa.  “And this was _where_ , exactly?”

“Nagano, I believe,” Chikage said, blinking.  “It turned into quite the circus, or so I’ve heard.   Kaito wasn’t very clear, but one of Ginzou _-san’_ s friends down there said that the Edogawa boy was even involved.  Which is another matter entirely.  I don’t know what Mouri _-san’_ s thinking, allowing an _elementary schooler_ at _crime scenes_ \--”

_He was in Nagano? Then the charge on the card was a red herring?  Or was the person we’ve been looking for in Nagano the whole time?_

“I’ve heard that child’s a bit of an exceptional one, though,” Vermouth said.

“Even so, is it really all right?” Chikage asked, crossing her arms.  “Oh, no, now I feel like a gossip!”

Vermouth waved her off.  “I urged you on.”

“You did, didn’t you?” Chikage said.  “You’re like your mother, that way.  Toichi told me about how she used to tell him about her fellow actresses’ personal lives when they went out for drinks.”

Vermouth didn’t remember doing that, or at least not so often that her mentor’s wife would remember it as something typical of Sharon Vineyard.  She thought she might be a bit insulted.

“Still, I feel like I’ve taken up your time, and with such trivial things, too!” Chikage said, bowing quickly.  “I really should let you get back to waiting for...well, whoever it is you’re waiting for!  I _do_ hope they come soon!”

She bowed again, and slipped off into the crowd, leaving Vermouth as confused as she’d been in weeks, easily.

Nothing the woman had said matched what her spies in the police or her own background work had told her.  The Edogawa child _should_ have been in London.  And yet…

The organization had wondered, for a while, if Chikage had been a threat, but she’d been cleared.  The investigations had turned up nothing.  No one was even certain if she’d _known_ about her husband’s illicit activities, and if she’d been involved, it had been so surreptitiously that no evidence could be found.

A woman who didn’t even know her own husband had been a master thief couldn’t _possibly_ lie so well.  There was no way.  So she had to be telling the truth.  She really had no idea who she was speaking with or why “Chris” might care about the miniature detective’s whereabouts.

All of Vermouth’s data was contradicting itself, now, and she had no other choice but to go back to the drawing board.  Maybe she’d find a new angle from which all of this would suddenly make sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for depictions of paranoia and what comes pretty close to an interrogation, as well as an outsider depiction of what the reader (if not the narrator) can identify as Hakuba having or coming near to having a flashback (it is deliberately left unclear). Also more discussion of suicidal ideation, starts at “People die” and ends at “offended him” if you need to skip.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short-ish chapter this week due to both RL and how the the scenes divided themselves. I just started a new job; I’m somewhere between hyped and anxious as all heck. I’m hoping the RL shakeup won’t affect fic progress overmuch but it’s a possibility. Any story-relevant updates will be in the riddle in reverse tag on Tumblr, as usual.
> 
> Morofushi quotes someone this chapter; predictably, it’s Zhuge Liang in Romance of the Three Kingdoms. In general, if Morofushi quotes anyone ever, you can probably assume it is Zhuge Liang. He’s a dork and I love him.
> 
> I owe miladyRanger for keeping this thing borderline coherent. Warnings in the end-note, per usual.

The early-morning chill hit Kansuke full in the face when he stepped out the door.  Still, at least the sun was fully up, and there were even cars on the road--a far cry from a few hour ago, when Koumei had arrived before the sun or the morning traffic.

Koumei strode past him, coming to a stop next to his car and fixing Kansuke with a glare.

“The futons are already in your hall closet,” he said, crossing his arms.

“But we’re outside, now, and the kids will have to make an effort to eavesdrop,” Kansuke countered, leaning back on his cane.  “What a f***ing mess.”

Koumei nodded agreement.  “How did we miss it?”

“They really wanted us to, that’s how,” Kansuke said, grim.  “I’ll bet money that one of those people Hakuba said he lost to this was police.”

“I’ll not take that bet, thank you,” Koumei replied, sighing.  “None of them should be out solvin’ cases like that.”

“Well, Kuroba at least isn’t,” Kansuke said.  And then paused, considering.  “Well, probably.  H*** if I know _what_ he is but he’s no civilian.”

“You noticed as well,” Koumei said, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips for a moment.

“Yeah, the thing with his face was kinda hard to miss,” Kansuke said flatly.  “The h*** does a civilian kid learn to do that?”

“He is a performer, perhaps--” Koumei began, then broke off with a huff.  “No, that at most begins explainin’ it, and both of us know it.  But I doubt he’ll take questions about it well.”

“Considerin’ he tried to bolt and scared a few years off of both of us in the process, yeah, not too likely,” Kansuke agreed.

“We do trust them, about him not having a weapon, don’t we?” Koumei asked.

“We trust the freakout he had at the mention of guns,” Kansuke said.  “That was a little too incoherent to be staged.  If he’d been doing it on purpose he would’ve gotten to the point a little faster, yeah?”

Koumei made a hum of consideration.  “Which brings us to an entirely different matter—exactly how does a supposed civilian in a country with strict gun laws gain such an extreme reaction to their very mention?”

“F***, I didn’t even think of that,” Kansuke said, feeling his stomach clench.

“I’ve heard that Hattori _-kun_ was shot once, during that Naniwa Serial Killer Case,” Koumei said.  “At first I thought perhaps the story was an exaggeration, but it sounded so much like him I thought it must be the truth.  The rumors about Conan _-kun_ , on the other hand, I hope very much are distorted.  Still, that reaction was not consistent with having had a friend endangered by gun violence.  He’s seen guns before, himself, maybe even had one pointed at him.  The people they’re all so worried about must have them.”

“What f***ing rumors about _the elementary schooler_?” Kansuke asked.  “And of course they have guns; what else gets people as scared as those kids are?”

Koumei nodded.  “You make a good point.  As for the rumors about Conan- _kun_ , I’ve heard there was an incident involving some bank robbers and a cave.  The rumors were thin by the time they made it out here; I know he received a blood transfusion but reports varied as to why he needed it.”

“But at least one of the versions said he got shot, huh?” Kansuke said.  “Still, only rumors.  For all we know he just broke his leg and bled a lot or something.”

“Do you really believe that?”

Kansuke sighed.  “Not really, no.”

“He’s—how old, precisely, seven?  Eight?” Koumei asked.

Kansuke shrugged.  “Elementary school.  Too d*** young to be involved in all of this.  Beyond that, I don’t know.”

“They’re all too young to be involved in this,” Koumei said.  “But they won’t accept help.  Hakuba _-kun_ all but panicked at the very idea.”

“Kuroba doesn’t trust us, for some reason, but the rest of them are actually trying to keep us safe by keeping us out of it,” Kansuke said.  “Which is screwed up.  We’re the adults here.”

“Hondou _-kun_ lives alone, and so did Hakuba _-kun_ , before the superintendent-gen’ral took him in,” Koumei pointed out.  “And those two and Kuroba _-kun_ all but admitted they lost family members to this.  Add to that Conan _-kun_ , whose parents left him with guardians while they travelled—these children have learned self-reliance. Perhaps too well.”

“Speakin’ of that, do the Mouris know?” Kansuke asked.  “Superintendent-Gen’ral Hattori can’t, or Hattori wouldn’t’ve left without explainin’.  Superintendent-Gen’ral Hakuba doesn’t, either.”

“They mustn’t,” Koumei said.  “You’ve spoken with Mouri _-kun_ ; she’s occasionally worried for Kudou _-kun_ but more often annoyed that he doesn’t call.  If she knew the nature of the case keeping him away, her attitude toward matters would be different.  The Edogawas may be a different matter though, and the Kudous are obviously aware, as they arranged the boys’ flight.”

“They got all the kids out except theirs,” Kansuke said.  “There’s something screwy there and it’s gonna bother me ‘til I figure it out what’s behind it.”

“It may be best to let that lie for now,” Koumei said.  “I don’t believe for a second that he’s still in London.  But I think they’ve decided not to trust us with wherever he _is_.”

Kansuke rubbed his eyes.   _“Seriously_?  We are the police.  They _know_ us.  I woke up in the middle of the d*** night to let them sleep in my house.  What else do we need to _do_?”

“Convince them to abandon what is probably years’ worth of seemingly justified paranoia,” Koumei said flatly.  “Which I doubt we’ll be able to do.  Particularly as only Conan _-kun_ and Hattori _-kun_ really know us; Hakuba _-kun_ ’s only spoken to you briefly and the other two just met us.”

Kansuke groaned.  “So, what, we just give up on the idea of them trusting us?”

Koumei gave him a fanged grin.  “No, it simply means we need to wait them out.  We’ve both read enough on siege tactics for this, haven’t we?”

“Huh, I guess we have,” Kansuke said, grinning right back. “Still, hard to feel patient enough for a long game, with kids in danger.” He sighed.  “But we won’t get anywhere by scaring them off.”

“No, we won’t,” Koumei agreed.  “You know the superintendent-gen’ral better than I do.  Is he prepared to deal with his son in this state?”

“He’s been prepared,” Kansuke said.  “He never explained exactly, but he knew or suspected something of the kid’s past, somehow.  He told me to treat him gently, and asked me if I knew any psychologists.”

“All the way out here?” Koumei asked.

“He’s superintendent-gen’ral of Tokyo, and you know how the old-fashioned types would get about that sort of thing, if it got out,” Kansuke said.  “The last thing he’d want would be his kid’s mental health gettin’ dragged into politics. Besides, it isn’t all _that_ long by bullet train.”

Koumei sighed. “I suppose it isn’t.  Did you give him names?”

“Yeah, and I’ll give ‘em again, if he lost ‘em,” Kansuke said.  “My guess is that the kid wouldn’t go.  Hopefully his dad will push a bit harder this time.”

“It’s the others I worry about,” Koumei said.  “Hondou _-kun_ lives alone, on another continent.  I’m very certain that Conan _-kun_ lies to the Mouris, and will keep doing so when he gets back to them.  Hattori _-kun_ is about to be grounded for misbehavior…and I’m quite certain that Kuroba _-kun_ deliberately gave us as little data as he could regarding his living situation.”

“Kuroba’s scared of us,” Kansuke said slowly.  “I don’t think it’s just not trusting, he’s scared.  Kid’s facial expression may not change much, but how else do you explain the twitchiness?”

“You can be a bit…shall we say, intimidating, when annoyed,” Koumei said.  “I doubt you greeted them as warmly as you could have in the small hours of the morning.  And as a civilian, or at least a non-detective, he may not be as used to casual interaction with ranking police as the others.”

Kansuske considered that.  “You’ve got a point.”

“Also, while it’s less than ideal, he and Hondou _-kun_ seem to be looking after one another, to some extent, between monitoring Hakuba _-kun_ ,” Koumei said.  “Which is reassuring, in that they’ve figured out how to do that, but worrying, in that it leaves Hattori _-kun_ responsible for both Kudou _-kun_ and Conan _-kun_.”

“And neither of those two are gonna be reciprocatin’, particularly,” Kansuke muttered.  “I mean, sure, the kid can do the ‘cheer up big brother’ act but if Hattori actually needs to talk about something he’s too young and Kudou’s probably too much of a trainwreck. Holy _s***_ , kid nearly dies and goes into hiding, and I don’t think he’s told a single cop, just his parents and Hattori.”

“It’s a bit concerning,” Koumei agreed.  “If the opportunity arises, I would like to have a word with him.”

“Kudou, or Hattori?” Kansuke asked.

“Both, ideally, though I think you might actually be better suited to speaking with Kudou _-kun,_ should the opportunity present itself,” Koumei said.  “But I was speaking of Hattori _-kun_.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to try to get contact information for any of them that’ll give it, either,” Kansuke said.  “You’re right, we’re gonna have to play the long game.  Probably one that’ll take a bit longer than they can afford to stay here. There’s a pretty good chance we ain’t gettin’ the chance to properly talk to any of them ‘til a while after they leave.”

“Which is a whole other matter,” Koumei said.

“What is?”

“Their leaving,” Koumei said.  “Do you really think any of them are in a state to be taking a bullet train back to Tokyo?”

Kansuke winced.  “Pretty sure Hakuba has martial arts trainin’, so that’d be a no,” he said.  “He’s gonna end up sendin’ some poor b*****d into a wall ‘cause they bumped into him too hard.”

“Assuming someone doesn’t jostle Kuroba and set off the smoke bombs first,” Koumei said dryly.

“Ehh, Hondou was talkin’ like he has them on him all the time,” Kansuke said, dismissive.  “If that’s the case, I’m sure he’s careful enough with them that they wouldn’t go off just by someone bumpin’ him.”

“We have to get them back to Tokyo somehow,” Koumei said.

“We’d need a van to drive ‘em,” Kansuke said.  “I think our best bet is waitin’ and hopin’ they calm the heck down in a bit.”

“And in the meantime?” Koumei asked.  “Not one of them has made so much as a move to call the superintendent-gen’ral.”

Kansuke scowled. “I don’t like havin’ a friend’s missin’ kid at my house and not tellin’ him, but the kid didn’t look up to makin’ decisions, and I’m not violatin’ his trust by goin’ behind his back when he’s already shaken up.  If givin’ him time doesn’t help the problem, I say we talk to Hondou.”

“That seems sensible.”

Kansuke grinned.  “So, wait ‘em out, at least for now?”

“I think it would be for the best,” Koumei said.  “Ready to go back in?”

“Might be good to make sure they aren’t tryin’ to make a run for it again,” Kansuke joked.

Koumei’s eyes widened just a bit.  “I hadn’t even considered…”

“Wait, ya don’t really think…”

Koumei just ran for the door, leaving Kansuke to follow.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Heiji sat against the sliding door of the inspector’s spare room and breathed.

The others would be all right for a little while.  Eisuke had talked Kudou and Kaito out of making a run for it.  Heck, Kaito had even settled down enough to try calling his mom, though it ended up ringing through.  Hakuba was still a mess, but he wasn’t shaking anymore and once they’d been sure their hosts weren’t coming back right away, he’d even started going through a few tentative card tricks with that deck Kaito gave him.

But Heiji—Heiji just needed things to not be loud for a few seconds.  He needed not to have to pay attention to half a dozen people’s faces and voices and phrasing just to keep the situation from turning _violent—_ and seriously, what the _heck_ was his life, now, that he even had to worry about that.  He’d spent the last hour—few days—no, week, really—pushing his ability to do tact as far as it could go and trying to keep his pack of dysfunctional friends functional enough that they could do what they needed to do, but they were back in Japan now and it was supposed to be _over_.

He just needed a break.

So he’d lied badly about needing something from his suitcase and pretty much everyone but Eisuke had been too busy having psychological trauma to notice and now it was _quiet_ and no one was talking at him.

Someone knocked on the door and Hattori _cursed_ , loud enough that they probably heard it out at the table.

“Hattori _-kun_?” Morofushi asked gently, voice muffled by the door.  “May I come in?”

_Uuuugh, talking, but if I don’t let ‘im in it’s suspicious,_ Heiji thought.  “Sure,” he said, standing and turning to face the door before he opened it.

“Whaddya need?” he asked.

Morofushi looked him over, lips pursed and eyebrows knitted up.  Heiji squirmed under the scrutiny despite himself.

“I would like to speak to you,” Morofushi said at last.  “Would you do me the favor of listening?”

Heiji nodded, not sure where this was going.

Morofushi sat down, _seiza_ -style, back straight and legs folded perfectly.  Heiji mirrored him without thinking, years of _kendo_ and his mother’s tea ceremonies taking over before conscious thought could catch up.

“When a friend is in danger or hurting, it is only natural to want to do as much as you can to help,” Morofushi said, expression smoothed out in a way that made Heiji think of Kaito just a little.

“If you’re tryin’ to tell me to butt out of Kudou’s mess ‘cause I ain’t involved directly, you can jus’—” Heiji started hotly.

“I would be a hypocrite, to give you a lecture I have, myself, ignored many times,” Morofushi said, grinning for just a moment before his expression turned back into something hard to read.  “Particularly one that, if I heeded, might have left Kansuke _-kun_ to wait longer for rescue, if it came at all.  No, ‘loyalty and filial duty are the essentials of a person’s being.’  I would not ask you to turn your back on your friend.”

He took a breath.  “However, one must remember, even in the midst of such efforts, to take care of oneself, as well.”

“Whaddya think I’m tryin’a do?” Heiji asked, a bit more sulkily than he’d meant to.

“Have you ever heard the phrase, ‘Too little, too late’?” Morofushi asked.

Heiji bristled. “Look, they _needed—_ ”

“You’ve been taking on both Kudou _-kun_ and Conan _-kun_ ’s burdens, correct?” Morofushi asked.  “I think it’s excellent of you to offer them such support.  But they likely can’t reciprocate, and that must be difficult, yes?”

“Hey, I talk to Kudou ‘bout things!” Heiji protested. _An’ Conan, seein’ as they’re the same person, but I ain’t tellin’ you that._

“But you can’t talk to him about the difficulties of supporting a friend who is hurting and in danger, not without hurting him,” Morofushi pressed, leaning forward slightly.  “And whatever other friends you have, I imagine you’ve taken pains to keep them out of this matter.”

“Well, yeah, but—it’s not—” Heiji started.   _I mean, yeah, sometimes it’s tough worryin’ about Kudou an’ bein’ the only person he really talks about stuff with, ‘cept maybe Ai, and he’s gotta watch what he says ‘round her sometimes—but I’m managin’ fine!_

“To wait, and worry, can be just as difficult,” Morofushi said quietly, lips pressed together into something that looked faintly like a smile, an expression belied by the tired slope of his shoulders.

_Guess he of all people would know ‘bout that, huh_? Heiji thought.   _Can’t imagine what it must’ve been like, thinkin’ Inspector Yamato was dead; don’t wanna imagine what goin’ through that with Kudou’d be like._

“Then, what’d you do?” Heiji asked aloud.

“Nothing constructive,” Morofushi said plainly.  “Not when it was most important.  But Yui _-chan_ and I worry about him together, now, and that’s…helpful.”

“So you’re sayin’ I should talk to the others?” Heiji said.  “Because, seriously, you have _no_ idea.  My s*** ain’t even on the same _level_ —”

“I don’t believe this is a contest,” Morofushi said.

“An’ I ain’t tryin’ to win,” Heiji said.  “But I don’t want ta ask them ta deal wit’ my stuff when they already got all o’ their stuff.”

“Let me ask you something,” Koumei began, eyes narrowed.  “Is one of them, even one, completely realistic about and aware of their own issues?”

“No,” Heiji said, almost reflexively.   _S***, Kudou really thinks he isn’t paranoid, half the time, and let’s not get started on KID.  Even Hondou’s got that thing with pretendin’ he ain’t upset, and Hakuba doesn’t seem to think that it’s weird when he treats himself like the only unimportant human on Earth._

“Then why, precisely, do you believe yourself the exception to that?” Morofushi asked.

Heiji stared at him for a few seconds, then cursed, out loud this time.

“Do attempt to talk to one of your friends,” Morofushi said, standing.  “I’ll make your excuses at the table and give you a bit more time to collect yourself.”

He’d closed the door behind him before Heiji could even gather the words for a reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: In the first half, discussion of child endangerment, peril, near-death experiences, death, violence, gun violence, blood, trauma, mental health issues and the stigma surrounding mental health issues. In the second half, Hattori being close to sensory overload, followed by more discussion of trauma (particularly lack of awareness of trauma) and a lot of Hattori devaluing his own issues.
> 
> Hattori, as I’ve mentioned previously, is not aware that he’s autistic. He does, however, know that everything gets kind of overwhelming sometimes, and he has some ways of dealing with that, one of which is going someplace quiet. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and please leave a review if you’re so inclined! (I will catch up on replies, eventually, I promise!)


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real life is still kicking my butt, so I am way behind on reviews. I am seriously sorry.
> 
> Thanks, as always, to miladyRanger for betaing. Warnings in the end-note!

Most people saw Nakamori Ginzou screaming his head off at KID heists while the rest of the Task Force attempted to pile KID and assumed that was the whole of what the Task Force was and did.  Those people were, of course, idiots.

The KID Task Force was an interdepartmental special group that had been started when KID targeted a member of the Tokyo bureaucracy's property; it had been intended as a temporary measure to calm one of the people who decided police funding down.  That was how Nakamori, who had been and still was assigned to Fraud, had ended up in charge.  Obviously they hadn’t stopped KID, but Nakamori had gotten a handful of his cape, just for a second, and Harada and a few others had figured out the date, if not the time, of heist from the first riddle.  That had been enough to establish them as experts, and after local police bungled a few other heists, to get the Task Force formalized and positions on it made into official assignments.  The initial requirements never changed, though--any officer could volunteer with the approval of a supervising officer, and in the case of Task Force vacancies supervising officers could also volunteer their staff.  

Which is to say that heading up the Task Force involved training people of all ages from multiple departments to play nicely with one another and also to catch a felon with unholy skills and a taste for large-scale practical jokes, while keeping a special eye on the ones who’d been assigned to him as punishment, because there were always a few.  To be fair, sending a guy out to get humiliated by KID, which was generally what happened to Task Force members on their first heist, was a pretty good way of dealing with an officer who’d screwed up in a way that wasn’t easy to officially punish beyond a reprimand.  But it still made things tough for Ginzou.   He had to keep track of who was doing what work for the Task Force and how long, for payroll reasons, which would be easier if payroll didn’t need him to turn in separate forms for each department.  He also needed to do basic training with every new person that came in, even the people who were only joining temporarily for punishment or because they were curious; people at least needed to know about how to deal with the sleeping gas.

The point was, being on the Task Force wasn’t easy.  Ginzou still missed it.

When they were actively preparing for a heist, or winding down from one, the KID Task Force operated out of a set of desks in a corner near where the Fraud Department was.  On a normal week, Nakamori would usually just work out of the desk he used for Task Force duties, and so would a few of the other more established members.  Plus, there were sometimes one or two rookies in and out with reports about upcoming exhibitions at the Beika Museum or at Suzuki properties in general, because KID had a few patterns.

Now, those desks were being used by some sort of drugs task force, since KID was on official hiatus, and the only way Ginzou had to talk to his entire Task Force was email.  Which was a crap medium when it came to getting morale back up.  Text didn’t properly convey _volume_.

Also, the only thing that was really going to wipe the melancholy looks he’d seen floating around off of anyone’s faces were reassurances like, “Don’t worry, KID’ll be back,” and that was not a good thing to send through the police email.  Work emails got stored someplace and sometimes read, apparently; Aoko had explained it to him once after he sent her a chain email from his work account.  The upshot was that he wanted his men to stop being upset but not enough that he was willing to get fired over it.

So he was stuck at his desk, going through a massive backlog of reports about a fraud gang that was targeting elderly cell phone users.  

_People are screwed up_ , he thought, settling into his desk chair.   _Wonder if I should get coffee now, or later._

“Ginzou _-san_?”

Ginzou turned around.  And stared.  “The f*** are you doing here?”

Chikage just stared back, so Ginzou clarified.

“I invited you to a police function _once_ , Chikage _-san_ ,” he said patiently.  “Once, and you turned me down by saying a bunch of things I don’t think I should repeat around my co-workers.  Even Toichi _-san_ looked shocked, and he insulted my job as a way of greeting me.”

_Yeah, ‘Arrested any innocents today, Ginzou_ -san _?’_ Ginzou thought, not quite nostalgic.   _I do miss the guy, but sometimes I wonder why we were friends._ He paused.   _Oh, wait, he babysat Aoko.  That’s why._

“I had a sudden urge to see what my tax dollars were doing,” Chikage said primly.

“Try again,” Ginzou drawled.

Chikage’s smile wavered for a split second.  “I had a bit of an adventuresome morning, and I felt the need to see a familiar face in a place where I could check for latex masks without violating a social norm?”

“Still not buyin’ it,” Ginzou said.   _Though that one sounded a little more genuine than the last one.  Weird._

“Can’t I just visit a friend?”

“I’m on the clock here,” Ginzou muttered.

“So you are,” Chikage said blithely, smile almost creepily wide.  “I won’t be here long.”

Ginzou sighed.  “Is there a reason you came, then?”

“I was just...curious,” Chikage said, a bit more serious now.  “About how it is, with the Task Force on break.”

Ginzou grimaced.  “It’s slow, and the men are discouraged, you know how they get.”

“I don’t,” Chikage said.  “Tell me about it.”

What followed was one of the oddest conversations Ginzou had ever had with Chikage.  And not really even a conversation, either.  He just...blathered, for at least ten minutes, about the exact ways in which each member of the Task Force had reacted to KID going on break.  Harada cracking down on the new recruits, Kusakabe swearing at the printer every time it broke, Miuta getting quiet and solemn, Yoshida drinking enough coffee that he was actually affecting the department’s overall stock...and Chikage just listened.  She didn’t look interested, exactly.  She made noises at the correct times and nodded at pauses but she didn’t have that expression she got when Ginzou started talking about, say, KID.  Her eyes weren’t even really focused.  But she was definitely paying attention, and Ginzou wasn’t sure why.

“You just listened to me talk about the Task Force for, like, ten minutes,” Ginzou said.  “Are you sick?”

Chikage shook her head.  “No, it’s just nice, listening to someone else’s concerns.”

_Well, that’s strange phrasing if I ever heard it,_ Ginzou thought. “Hey, did you ever work things out with Kaito?”

Chikage’s face did something strange.  It wasn’t quite happy enough to be a smile, but Ginzou would have forgiven someone who didn’t know Chikage well for making the mistake.

“We’ve gotten closer,” she said.  “He’s talking to me again.  And I think...I think, after today, it might be better.”

“What happened today?” Ginzou asked.

Chikage straightened, just a bit. “I did him a favor.”

“Kaito’s pretty thoughtful for a kid his age; I’m sure he’ll be grateful,” Ginzou reassured her.

Chikage muttered something under her breath.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing!” Chikage said quickly, waving a hand.  “So, have you still been looking for Saguru?”

Ginzou blinked at the abrupt change of topic.  “After they moved the investigation to Nagano, we pretty much shut things down here, and once that turned out to be a false lead...well, the superintendent general didn’t make a lot of noise about reopenin’ it.”

Chikage made a humming noise.

“There’s only so much he can do without people startin’ to cry favoritism,” Ginzou said.

“I suppose so,” Chikage said, looking much less somber than the situation called for.

“What do you know?” Ginzou demanded.

“Oh, me?” Chikage asked.  “I know all _sorts_ of things.  For instance, Murasaki _-shikibu_ wrote _The Tale of Genji_ , and--”

“That’s not what I meant,” Ginzou interrupted.

“But it’s all I’m telling you,” Chikage said.  She paused, looking thoughtful.  “Or, perhaps, I’ll say that Kaito will be home soon.”

“Will he?” Ginzou asked.  “I don’t suppose you know anything about where Edogawa Conan and Hattori Heiji are?”

Chikage grinned at him.  “If I knew anything about that, why would it be your business?”

“I-I--” Ginzou shut his mouth.   _I can’t very well spill Megure’s entire conspiracy theory to her!_

Chikage’s grin just widened, and it actually reached her eyes this time.  “I do hope the rest of your day goes well, Ginzou _-san_.”

“I hope you start making sense someday,” Ginzou replied.

“Live in hope, Ginzou- _san,_ ” Chikage encouraged, as she turned to leave. “By all means, live in hope _._ ”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Konosuke Jii was not a bar owner by vocation; if anything, The Blue Parrot was a retirement job for him.  Granted, if he’d actually meant to relax, he really should have chosen literally any other industry besides food service, but relaxation hadn’t ever been his true goal.  People met at bars, had conversations, drank enough to speak more freely than they might otherwise.  If you wanted to gather information, they were the best place to go.

And if you _really_ wanted information, well, you just set up a bar of your own and gathered all the information to yourself.

Besides, now he had a good place to play pool and poker that would always let him in, no matter how often he won or how many people accused him of cheating.  He’d never cheat at pool!  (Cards, now cards were another story, but really, anyone who played poker _fair_ was missing out on half the game.)

He didn’t work full shifts anymore most days, but today was inventory day and he’d been in since early morning.  

They’d understand why he needed to sit down for a little while when they were as old as he was, particularly if their knees hurt as often as his.

And then, a familiar face stepped into the slightly brighter lighting around the bar, and Jii accepted that he wasn’t going to be having much of a break.

He stood up, knees still tender, and gave a bow, restaurant proprietor to guest.  “Hiroshi _-san_ , I didn’t expect you tonight.”

Agasa Hiroshi laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the curls gathered there, his most obvious tell.  

_This isn’t just a friendly visit, then,_ Jii thought, concerned.  “Have a seat,” he offered aloud.

“I think I will,” Hiroshi said, uncharacteristically serious.  “Jii, do you have any idea where your godson is?”

Jii raised an eyebrow.  “Hiroshi _-san_ , you know there’s a reason we don’t discuss those sorts of things.”  

_Definitely not a friendly visit_ , he corrected mentally, gesturing to the nice young girl who was bartending to bring them both something to drink.

Hiroshi’s expression tightened.  “I’m aware,” he said, looking away for a second.  “Part of our agreement when I started providing you with inventions is that I wouldn’t ask too many questions, and you wouldn’t give me information that might incriminate me.  But he’s got Conan _-kun_ with him.”

“That’s what this is about?” Jii asked, in some surprise.  “I would have thought it would have been about Shinichi _-kun_.”

“Shinichi _-kun_!” Hiroshi exclaimed, startling badly enough that he nearly fell off of his seat, his voice loud enough to turn heads across the bar.  “What makes you think _he_ has anything to do with this?”

Jii gave him a sharp look for drawing attention, and Hiroshi ducked, his head, sheepish.

“The young master never outright said Shinichi _-kun_ was involved, but some of the things he’s said about the detectives he won’t identify that he’s currently working with were fairly identifying,” Jii said.  

Hiroshi shook his head. “Oh, I’m certain that was just Conan _-kun_ , he does take after his cousin…”

He was rubbing the back of his neck again.  There was a good reason that Jii never played poker with Hiroshi--he couldn’t bluff.

“So, Conan _-kun_ _and_ Shinichi _-kun_ are involved,” Jii corrected.

Hiroshi gave another high, nervous chuckle.  “Ah, yes, of course, that’s how it is.”

“Hiroshi _-san_ , please don’t insult me like this,” Jii sighed, as their drinks arrived--beers, by the look of them.

Hiroshi slumped.  “I really can’t tell you this,” Hiroshi said.  “You really don’t want to know.”

“You know, the young master told me something interesting last time we spoke,” Jii said slowly, pausing to take a sip of his drink.  “He said that Shinichi _-kun_ ’s trouble and the young master’s trouble might be of the same variety.”

Hiroshi frowned.  “I was under the impression that your godson’s trouble was the police.  Which isn’t the same kind of trouble at all.”

Jii waved a hand, as if to dismiss Hiroshi’s words.  “Oh, he can handle that kind of trouble easily enough.  Particularly with the use of your--”

“I believe we agreed not to go into detail about that,” Agasa interrupted, voice firm.

Jii sighed.  “Regardless. If that were my only concern, I wouldn’t worry nearly so much.  There is...another matter.  One more dangerous, and best not spoken of where others might listen.”

Hiroshi blinked, then his eyes narrowed.  “This _is_ starting to sound uncomfortably familiar.”

“How familiar, exactly?” Jii pressed.

“We are in public,” Hiroshi said, with probably the most discretion Jii had ever seen the man display.

“Mmmm…” Jii weighed his words.  “Well, years ago, Toichi _-sama_ came back from...work, describing a brief sojourn into a American gangster movie set in the 1930’s; the young master has described the same.”

“Kuroba _-sensei_ also--” Hiroshi breathed, then shook his head.  “That is...quite familiar, yes.  Shinichi _-kun_ encountered such a thing once, and Conan _-kun_ has been chasing after them ever since.”

“Conan _-kun_ is in elementary school,” Jii said, frowning.

Hiroshi avoided his gaze.  “There are mitigating circumstances.”

“Oh, _really_?”

Hiroshi’s expression hardened.  “Your godson breaks the law.  Leave it alone, Jii _-san_.”

Jii didn’t _like_ leaving it alone, but Hiroshi had a point.  This could only end in a fight, and barfights were far less fun when you owned the establishment you were wrecking.

“So, the younger generation has pulled ahead of us in collaboration, it seems,” Jii said, tugging at his moustache.  “From what I’ve been told, they’re in Nagano in the moment.”

Hiroshi slumped slightly in his seat, and finally took a gulp of his drink.  “All I was told is that something had gone wrong and they wouldn’t be able to return straight to Tokyo safely.” He took another drink.  “The Kudous are amazing people and old friends but I wish they’d _tell_ me things.”

“Tokyo should be safe for them now,” Jii said.  “From what I understand, there was a matter of someone waiting at the airport, but that’s been taken care of.   Perhaps not in the most cautious way possible, but it’s taken care of.”

Hiroshi opened his mouth, looking ready to ask a question, and then closed it again.  “I don’t want to know more, do I?”

“Likely not,” Jii said amiably.   _Chikage said that what she did was safe, and I hope to heaven she was right.  But I really don’t want to tell the story to one of my more anxious acquaintances and have him agree with my every worry about it._

He glanced around the bar.  “I believe business is slow enough that, given everything that is happening, I can justify leaving the floor for a bit.  If you’d like to come with me to my apartments, perhaps we can work out a slightly more open sharing of information?”

Hiroshi regarded him for a moment, then sighed.  “Can we bring the beer?”

Jii grinned.  “It’s my bar. And what’s more, I believe there are leftover bar snacks in the refrigerator that we can take with us.  If we’re going to discuss unpleasant matters it might as well be over food.”

Hiroshi frowned.  “I’ll be scolded later if it’s anything unhealthy…”

“By who?” Jii demanded.  “Did you find yourself a wife in the week and a half since I last saw you?”

“By Ai- _chan_ ,” Hiroshi corrected, shaking his head.

“ _She’s_ in elementary school, too!” Jii said, throwing his hands up in the air.  “Heaven’s sakes, Hiroshi _-san_ , it’s like you _attract_ miniature adults.”

Hiroshi made a very interesting face at that.  Jii decided he was better off not asking.  In the end, he didn’t _actually_ want to know.

“Just stay here and I’ll get the food,” he sighed.

Hiroshi nodded, and settled innocently at the bar, sipping at his drink and looking for all the world like the kind of person who didn’t blow up his own house regularly.

_This_ was why Jii ran a bar.  You could meet up with all kinds of people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for blink-and-you’ll-miss-’em maladaptive coping mechanisms and discussion of canon-typical child-endangerment. 
> 
> For anyone wondering, when I say maladaptive coping mechanisms, Chikage is using Ginzou as a distraction from how terrified she was of Vermouth in this chapter, similar to how Kaito used Eisuke as a distraction after fighting with Chikage some chapters back. 
> 
> Next chapter will be back to the boys in Nagano. But there were some interesting things happening in Tokyo, and also I felt like Nagano was getting slightly claustrophobic, so I shifted the action for a chapter. 
> 
> Finally, thank you guys so much for all of the lovely reviews. I am catching up as quickly as I can but things are a bit messy at the moment, so just know that I appreciate all of them and will get to them individually ASAP.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, guys! This is a pretty short chapter for me, but I wanted to post a thing, and also the cutoff ended up being short. If I’d tried to add another section, I’d have kept you all waiting another week at least.
> 
> On that note, the next chapter may be a week late. I have burnt through my chapter buffer yet again, and I’m also at a point where I need to do a little bit of detail planning. More relevantly, RL is kicking my butt, hard, at the moment, and I need to feel like I have a little more of a grace period so fic doesn’t become a background stress to the new and constant flow of work deadlines.
> 
> That said, miladyRanger is best and warnings are in the end-notes!

**Chapter 39**

Eisuke tried to focus on chasing the last grain of rice across his plate, because it was much easier than trying to process any of what was happening.  They’d just _told_ the Nagano police, for all intents and purposes, Kaito had nearly gotten tackled for having a gun he didn’t actually have, and the kitchen still smelled more like home than anywhere had since he left Japan, except maybe Kiyoshi’s apartment.

He snuck a glance at Hakuba.  He was shuffling Kaito’s well-worn card deck with the kind of flourishes Eisuke had only ever seen in movies about Las Vegas, his face blank except for a small frown of concentration.

Kaito was checking his phone, glib smile plastered to his face as if he hadn’t spent most of the morning panicking.  Heiji had gone back to their room to get something; or at least that’s what he’d said he was doing. Eisuke wasn’t sure he’d believed him, but Heiji had left before Eisuke had a chance to press.  Shinichi seemed unconcerned and had in fact taken his coffee, though he’d put his portion of natto on Heiji’s plate by way of exchange.  Eisuke had a feeling Heiji wouldn’t begrudge Shinichi the theft, since just holding the beverage in his hands seemed to be relaxing him.

Yamato, who Eisuke couldn’t quite get himself to call Kansuke, was back at the table too, though sans his investigative partner, and also fortunately sans the deluge of probing questions.  He also hadn’t passed comment on any of the odd things occurring at the table, for which Eisuke was grateful. He seemed the type to at least tell Kaito to put his phone away, but maybe he’d realized that Kaito was using it as a distraction.

But, just in case, it might be time for Eisuke to run just a bit of interference.

“Thank you again for breakfast,” he said, with his brightest smile.

Yamato huffed.  “Don’t thank me, thank Koumei.  If it were just me, you all would have ended up with toast.”

“I’ll be sure to thank him as well, then,” Eisuke said.  

“Don’t bother,” Yamato said.  “You’ll feed his ego.  D*** showoff.”

“I hope you weren’t speakin’ about me,” came Morofushi’s voice, lightly tinged with threat.  He emerged into the kitchen moments later.

“What of it?” Yamato asked grumpily.  “You find the Osakan kid?”

“He’ll be along,” Morofushi said serenely, sitting down at the table.

A sharp inhale from next to him caught Eisuke’s attention.  Kaito was staring down at his phone, eyes wide.

“Kuroba _-san_?” Hakuba asked softly.

“Mom texted,” Kaito said.  “It’s safe to go back to Tokyo, she says.”

“Well, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Inspector Yamato asked.

“She said she gave _her_ a false lead,” Kaito’s voice had dropped to a whisper.  “That means she _talked_ to her.   _S***._ ”

Kaito was rigid; his knuckles were white around his phone.

Eiske turned over that sentence in his head once, twice, then finally decided he wasn’t misinterpreting. “Seriously?” he breathed.

“Yeah.”

Shinichi swore.

“Don’t go throwin’ words like that around,” Yamato scolded him.

Wordlessly, Hakuba handed the deck of cards back to Kaito, who accepted it, pocketed his phone, and then split the deck into sections. He started tossing the sections between his hands without ever looking down, face blank.

“Why would she _do_ that?” he asked.  “That was stupid, that was so stupid--and she could have at least--well, not asked, I’m her kid, and it’s not like she _has_ to, not that she ever would, but she could have _warned_ us--” he broke off, hands moving more quickly.

“You wanna clue us in here, kid?” Yamato asked.

There was a sharp rap against the door, and Morofushi stiffened, expression souring.  Then, he swore.  “We’re in for it now.”

Eisuke tensed, and he knew he wasn’t the only one.

Yamato shot him a dirty look.  “Don’t think the kids are up to joking, Koumei, not even gallows humor,” he said.   He turned to the rest of them.  “It’s Yui, here to drag us down to the precinct, by our collars if she’s gotta.”

“You can tell just by the knock?” Shinichi asked.

“I mean, she does knock a certain way,” Yamato said, thoughtful.  “But mostly we shoulda known better to skip out on work and not expect her to chase us down.”

“We’d best go distract her before she barges in and sees Hakuba _-kun_ ,” Morofushi said.  “She’ll want to report in about it as soon as she sees him.  I imagine that wasn’t your plan?”

Saguru stiffened.

“I think we’d really rather just take him back home and let his dad report it in,” Kaito said.

“I can see your rationale, but it does involve allowing the resolution to a case to go unreported for an extended period,” Morofushi said. “If nothing else, you can understand her reasons for objecting, yes?”

“Of course,” Saguru said quietly.

“Let’s get a move on,” Kansuke said.  “She’s got a house key.”

“Why, Kansuke _-kun_!” Morofushi said, face lighting up in mock delight as he made for the door.

“Shut it, idiot,” Kansuke said, following.

Their conversation carried across the house as they left.

“But if you two have that sort of arrangement, is it really all right for you to be her superior officer?”

“It’s not _like_ that!”  

“Of course it isn’t.”

“Where’d the police go?” Heiji asked, coming into the kitchen.

“Officer Uehara’s outside; they’re playing distraction,” Shinichi said.  “You okay?”

“Been a long coupla days for me, too, Kudou,” Heiji said, with a slightly wan smile.  “I needed a few minutes.”

Shinichi looked troubled.  “Hattori, if there’s anything I--”

“You got enough on your plate right now,” Heiji said, with a wave of his hand.  “Hey, Eisuke, after everything settles down a bit, can I call you?”

Confused, Eisuke nodded.  “I’ll need your number.  Right now, I can only videocall you.”

Heiji grinned, and rattled off a number.  

“Hattori _-san,_ I don’t have a perfect memory, and I left my phone in America!” Eisuke said.

“Don’t worry, I texted it to you,” Kaito said.  Somehow, the cards had been replaced by his cell phone when Eisuke wasn’t looking.

“Thanks,” Eisuke said.  He paused, then decided to take a risk.  “If Hakuba _-san_ says it’s okay, could you text me his number, too?”

“I don’t have it,” Kaito said, glancing at Hakuba.

“Are you quite certain you want it?” Hakuba asked.

“I meant what I said in the hotel room,” Eisuke said.  “I’d like to get to know you.” He  paused.  “Oh, and thank you for the doves!”

“Are they doing well?” Hakuba asked, almost hesitantly.

Eisuke nodded. “They’re boarding with a vet who’s related to one of my classmates right now, but they’ve been doing really well. Well, I mean, sometimes Smiley decides my homework looks chewy and I think they’d both like it if my apartment was bigger, but…”

“Smiley?”

“After George Smiley,” Eisuke said.  “That’s what I named the one with the thicker band on his neck.  The other one’s Q, after the Quartermaster from James Bond.  I thought, since they were from you, and you had Watson, it was...fitting, I guess.”

Hakuba looked surprised for a moment, but then smiled, just slightly.  “Your tastes tend toward spy fiction, I suppose?”

“Well, not _just_ that,” Eisuke said, unsure of himself.  It was one thing to say he wanted to join the CIA; another to announce that intention to someone who’d been essentially acting as a deep cover agent for years.  He felt very young, suddenly.

“Eisuke’s planning on going into the family business,” Kaito said, before Eisuke could quite sort out how he wanted to put things.

“Are you?” Hakuba asked.  “Well, it isn’t as if I can judge that course of action, given my own choices in life.  And you conducted yourself very well when we met.  I certainly can’t call you unprepared.”  He smirked.  “You’ll be better at it than Hattori _-san_ would be.”

“Will ya lay off?” Hattori groused.  “Do you _really_ gotta poke at me all the time?  Ya acted like ya didn’t like me ‘cause I wasn’t by the book but that _can’t_ be it, ya used ta be the Ka--”

“Ah, Hattori _-san_ , you might not want to say that quite so loudly with three police officers in earshot,” Kaito said, voice strained.

“Sorry,” Heiji said.  “But, ya know what I mean, right?”

“I do,” Hakuba said.  “I...likely owe you an apology, Hattori _-san_.  To a certain extent, I do find your approach to detective work frustrating, but for the largest part, I simply found you a very easy and rewarding person to tease.”

Heiji looked thunderous.  

“I think you should explain,” Shinichi said, frowning.

“It is not as if I simply ceased to be my former self in the second I took up the name Hakuba Saguru,” Hakuba said.  “I spent most of my life working to elicit reactions from audiences.  I miss that sometimes.”

“So you piss me off for fun instead?” Heiji asked, glaring.

“I never claimed it was a constructive solution, or fair to you,” Hakuba said.  “And...perhaps I was also jealous.  It was sometimes frustrating to watch you speak your mind so carelessly, with no fear of consequences.”

Heiji sighed.  “And now you gotta go remindin’ me of Kudou.  Look, we’re gonna talk about this again, but after you’ve got your head on straight.  If you try and cut it out for now, we can be okay, at least ‘til then.  How’s that?”

“Quite generous of you,” Hakuba said softly.

“Okay, maybe we should talk about how we’re all gettin’ home,” Heiji suggested.  “Is it safe for you guys to go back?”

“Mom says it is,” Kaito said.  “Says she talked to Vermouth and made _sure_.”

“She what now?” Heiji asked.

“She’s insane, but she wouldn’t invite us back to Tokyo on less than a near-certainty,” Hakuba said.  He turned to Kaito.  “When you were shot, it scared her.  I doubt she’ll be taking risks with your safety anytime soon.”

“So you think we can trust her on this?” Shinichi asked.

“The alternative is to prevail upon Inspector Yamato’s hospitality indefinitely,” Hakuba said.  “Which I would prefer to returning to Tokyo, but it isn’t feasible in the least.”

“Don’t you want to see everyone?” Kaito asked.

“I’d rather not face their disappointment,” Hakuba said tightly.  “I ran away because I couldn’t handle the concept of someone knowing my actual circumstances.  From there, I committed a combination of fraud and theft to travel to multiple continents.  As I took very little with me, this will be very obvious to anyone who thinks about it.”

“What _did_ you do, anyhow?” Shinichi asked.

Hakuba stiffened.

“No one’s getting arrested,” Eisuke said, giving Shinichi a stern look.  “I’m pretty sure he was just curious.”

“A bit of hacking into corporate bank accounts, supplemented by selling information about the criminals in black to various law enforcement agencies under multiple false identities,” Hakuba said.

“Yeah, you’re gonna need to wipe that computer,” Kaito remarked.  “...Wait.   _Selling_ information?  They pay people to help with...this?”  He gestured expansively.

“They bribe minor criminals to tell them about things happening around them,” Hakuba corrected.  “Occasionally, when desperate.  As they are in this case.   It’s essentially the same thing I did when I was in London the first time.”  He paused, thoughtful. “Or what I’ve been doing over the past few years.  The only real difference is that while I was living with the Superintendent-General I generally kept the money for expenses like disguise makeup and Kaito’s bulletproof vests rather than putting it toward plane tickets or food.”

“So that’s what you were doing overseas all the time?” Kaito asked.

Hakuba blinked.

“The London cops never saw ya, but Kuroba _-han_ said you were takin’ trips overseas all the time,” Heiji said.

“The less of _Them_ there were, the less danger for...well, everyone,” Hakuba said.  “Kuroba _-san_ particularly, but my father, the Task Force, and everyone else caught up in this as well.  But fighting them too close to home was risky.  Father thought I was visiting friends, when I explained myself at all.”

“Do you _ever_ take breaks?” Eisuke asked, despite himself.

“I hardly thought I could afford to,” Hakuba replied.

“Hakuba _-san’_ s a workaholic, what else is new?” Kaito said, deliberately flip.

“Makes sense, knowing you,” Shinichi muttered.

“So...you can go back,” Eisuke said.  He looked at Shinichi.  “If you can, I probably can, too, without worrying about Hidemi _-nee_.   Though...does this mean we need to talk to your parents again?”

Shinichi groaned.  “Probably.”  He glanced toward the door. “Probably before those two come back.”

“Maybe in the guest room,” Hakuba suggested.

Shinichi rose, as did Eisuke.  Eisuke saw the surprised expression on Shinichi’s face and smirked.

“You think I’m going to let you talk to them alone?” he asked.  “You’ll come out and tell me they bought me tickets for a flight with a three-day layover in Aruba because they thought I seemed tense.”

“...You’re not wrong,” Shinichi said with a wince.  “That still might happen.”

_I was exaggerating_ , Eisuke thought, apprehensive, as they headed for the guest room.   _I get the feeling you aren’t_.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for all the maladaptive coping mechanisms. In particular, mention of a past non-constructive application of Hakuba’s Kaito-derived fondness for attention and head games.
> 
> Did anyone figure out that explanation of the Hakuba/Heiji dynamic ahead of time? Me and my beta worked it out in slightly more detail over the last year, but it’s basically been in place since Heiji’s chapter in RiR.
> 
> I swear review replies are coming! Eventually… Sorry guys, I am just...very tired and somewhat overworked.


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After some delay, here is a chapter. And it’s number 40, no less. Still not sure how this happened. Anyhow, more notes and warnings at the end.
> 
> Thanks to miladyRanger for beta-ing, though she has not had a chance to look this one over in full.

True to Kansuke’s expectations, when he opened the door, Yui had her spare key in her hand.

“What are you two _doing_?” she demanded.

_Not even a greeting_ , Kansuke noted, wincing.  “Something came up,” he said aloud.

“Not good enough,” Yui said, crossing her arms.  “You should’ve called in.  No matter how good you are, you’re _goin’_ to get a reprimand eventually.”  Her glare shifted off of him.  “And _you_ of all people should know better.”

“Perhaps,” Koumei acknowledged quietly.

“What could possibly be so important?” Yui demanded.

“It’s got to do with a case,” Kansuke said.  

Yui just stood there, waiting.

“It’s got to do with a case that ain’t your business,” Kansuke elaborated.

“I don’t think so,” Yui said.  “I need to tell them something back at the station.”

“Can you tell ‘em that a rankin’ officer told you to leave it alone?” Kansuke asked.

Yui’s expression froze.  “Is that what a rankin’ officer is tellin’ me to do?”

Kansuke huffed.  “No, but could you tell them that?”

“Why can’t you just work on whatever it is down at the station?” Yui asked.

“That’s complicated,” Koumei said smoothly.  

“Can’t be _that_ \--are there _people_ in your house?” Yui asked, leaning past Kansuke to crane her neck through the doorway.  

“What exactly do me and Koumei count as?”

Yui backed up and gathered herself, her face still red.  “I meant _other_ people,” she snapped.  “I hear talkin’--and _don’t_ tell me it’s the television.  You said you were _workin’_.”

“F***’s sake, Uehara, can’t you just leave this one alone?” Kansuke asked.  He hadn’t gotten enough sleep, and he’d spent the morning trying to extract information from hostile, traumatized teenage witnesses, and he did not need Yui on a mission to top it all off.

Yui slumped.  “I just don’t want to see you two get in trouble,” she said.  “You get that, right?”

Before Kansuke could put together a reply, Koumei said, “Of course we do.”

“Just...either call in, or come down to the station by lunch, and have something to tell Chief Kuroda,” she said.  “That’s all I’m askin’.”

“I can do that,” Kansuke said.  “Didn’t mean to worry you.”

Yui put her keys back in her pocket and turned to leave.  “You sure I can’t help?”

“Not this time, Uehara,” Kansuke said.  “Don’t mean to shut you out, but another officer isn’t really gonna make this one go more smoothly.”

Yui looked over her shoulder and caught his eye.  “Don’t get in over your head.”

Kansuke just nodded, because he’d feel worse about it if he lied out loud.

He closed the door behind him, only to be faced with a frowning Koumei.  

“What?” he asked.  “We’re doin’ what she wants!”

“Yes, but you’re still oblivious to why she wants it,” Koumei said.

“Now’s really not the time for teasin’--”

“I don’t intend to tease,” Koumei said.  “You’re smart enough to figure this out on your own. Why would the thought of your receiving a reprimand make Uehara- _san_ particularly nervous?”

“I dunno, she likes working under me?”

“She came back to the police specifically to work with you,” Koumei corrected.  “And when I was reprimanded, I not only lost rank, I was _transferred_.”

“Oh.”

“Do try to be a bit _less_ of an idiot, please,” Koumei said.  “The teenagers are exhaustin’ enough without adding you to it.”

“But--Uehara enjoys police work,” Kansuke all but protested.  “I’m not the only reason--”

“No, but teasin’ about relationships aside, you’re one of few officers I can think of who has never once thought that her decision to leave the force or her time away have made her unfit for police work.”

“Who the _h***_ ’s been sayin’ that?” Kansuke demanded, only keeping his voice down by remembering that his house was full of hypervigilant kids.  “I’ll--”

“Anyone who’s thought to say it knows full well what you’d do, which is why they only say it when you aren’t present,” Koumei said.  “You see how continuin’ to work for you is beneficial for Uehara _-san_ , yes?”

“She’s not going to let people like that stop her,” Kansuke said.

“No, but as long as you’re her superior, one of them isn’t, and she doesn’t have to listen to them as frequently,” Koumei said.  

“Ya got a point,” Kansuke said.

“I have,” Koumei said.  “We should have called in, this mornin’.  You should have just apologized.”

“Maybe,” Kansuke admitted, squirming a bit.

Koumei just gave him an exasperated look.

“I’ll do better,” Kansuke muttered.

“So you will,” Koumei said, as if the whole matter was decided.  “Now, let’s see if we can get your houseguests to assist in clearing away breakfast.”

“They’d better,” Kansuke said, starting for the kitchen.  “That’s as many dishes as I make in two days,” he paused.  “Maybe three.”

“That’s because you eat most of your meals at the department,” Koumei said, following.  

They entered the kitchen, only to find that Conan and Hondou were conspicuously absent.

Kansuke ran through the possibilities and decided to voice one that only made him sound moderately paranoid.

“Conan _-kun_ feelin’ sick again?”

“No, he and Eisuke are calling Shinichi’s parents about Eisuke’s plane tickets,” Kaito said.  “I gave them my phone, since they listen better to them.”

“He’s in _elementary school_ ,” Koumei pointed out.

“You listen to him about crime scenes,” Hattori said.

Well, Hattori had them there.  

“That mean you kids are gettin’ ready to go?” he asked.

He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or upset when Kuroba nodded.  Really, he wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or upset about this entire experience.

And he still had to come up with something to tell Chief Kuroda.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Really, Eisuke was surprised by how quickly the conversation with Shinichi’s parents went.  They’d taken things surprisingly seriously this time, and Eisuke had only needed to intervene a few times.  Shinichi had also managed to talk his parents into giving him temporary access to one of their credit cards so that he and Heiji could buy tickets for the bullet train.

When they came out of the bedroom, everyone was clearing the table and debating travel logistics.

“Yes, I know we’re close to a Japan Rail station here, but we’d like to see him safely to an airport,” Hakuba said, as he scraped a plate into the trash can.

“What, you don’t trust me?” Yamato asked, dropping a stack of dishes into the sink.

“I won’t tolerate verbal entrapment,” Hakuba said softly.

“Okay, guys, what if we just cooled it down a little bit?” Kaito suggested, weaving past Hakuba to throw away a few napkins.

“I’ll text you when I get to the airport,” Eisuke said.  “But there’s really no sense in you going an hour out of your way for the sake of paranoia.”

Pretty much everyone looked up, at that.

“It’s not just paranoia, Hondou _-kun_ ,” Hakuba said.

“No, but I think at this point if anyone was going to find us here, they’d have already come,” Eisuke said.  “Hakuba _-san_ , there are people who miss you. I don’t want to keep them waiting for longer than they have to be.”

Hakuba winced.

“Who exactly are we worrying about here?” Yamato asked.  “‘Cause if you were expectin’ the guys who nearly killed Kudou to show up here, I _really_ could’ve used a warning.”

“You would’ve been fine,” Shinichi said, with false cheer.

Yamato just glared down at him.

“Ominous statements about threat levels he and his friends failed to mention aside, his point is sound enough,” Morofushi said.  “I can drive him to the airport while you make sure the rest of them get to the bullet train station and then report in at the station.”

Yamato shrugged.  “I can live with that.”

“...Do we get a vote here?” Heiji asked.

“If you really object, sure, but maybe you could actually leave _something_ to adults for once in your lives,” Yamato said.

“Wow, you are _not_ letting go of that,” Hattori said.

Shinichi gave Eisuke a careful glance, then tilted his head in Morofushi’s direction for half a second.

_Will you be okay alone with him?_ was clearly the question being asked.

“I’m fine with it,” Eisuke said firmly.   _I’ve been doing half the verbal dodging for you guys anyway; I can keep it up for another hour or so._

“You should go get your suitcases, then,” Morofushi said.  “I’ll call down to the station and let them know I won’t be in for a while. Kansuke _-kun_ , you can finish clearing up, can’t you?”

“I hate you,” Yamato said flatly.

Eisuke ran to get his suitcase before the bickering started in earnest, and almost made it.

Packing didn’t take long, seeing as no one had really unpacked beyond a few pieces of clothing.  Soon, they were all back in the living room, luggage in hand.  It looked...different, with natural light filtering in.  Less ominous.  

Of course, that could have just been the fact that they now had good reason to believe no one was coming after them with intent to kill.  That was almost certainly a factor.

Still, it was just now hitting Eisuke that this was it.  It felt like such an abrupt ending to everything--not that it hadn’t been an abrupt beginning, what with Kaito texting them all out of the blue in a panic, and the decision to go to London getting made basically on the spot.  But still, it felt strangely unceremonious. Like, they’d worked for weeks to get Hakuba back, and now they’d managed it, and here was the ending--Eisuke got to drive to the airport with police inspector he barely knew and then go to school and pretend he hadn’t spent the last week solving a missing persons case and running on adrenaline.  He’d also have to make sure that the person the Kudous had asked to impersonate him hadn’t somehow screwed up his life.

Well, he’d survived finding Hidemi; he’d survive this too.

Eisuke turned to Inspector Yamato, gripping the handle of his suitcase tightly, then bowed.  “Thank you very much, Inspector.  We all appreciated your hospitality.”

There was a chorus of assent from the others.  They _could_ be polite, when not distracted by trauma or trying to lie their way out of a corner.  Eisuke was proud of them, he really was.

“Wasn’t like I had a lot of choice in the matter,” Yamato grumbled.    

Beside him, Morofushi held out a stack of torn-out notebook sheets. “Contact information.  For both of us.  Email and phone, as Hondou _-san_ might prefer not to be charged international rates.”

Silence fell for a few seconds.

“We made five copies; please, take them,” Morofushi elaborated.  “We would like you to keep in touch.”

“But Ran _-nee-chan_ can--”

“I’m not going to ask if Mouri _-chan_ knows about any of this because I suspect I already know the answer,” Morofushi said.  “We would like to be contacted if it ever becomes necessary.  Or if you think we could be helpful.”

“Or if you just want to keep in touch,” Yamato said.  “Sometimes you just want another pair of eyes to run a case past, you know?”

Heiji was the first one to take one of the sheets. Or rather, two--he separated them, and gave the second to Shinichi, with an expression on his face that indicated he wasn’t interested in arguing about it.  After a few more seconds, Hakuba took one, and glanced at Kaito, who sighed.  At that point, Eisuke felt pretty outnumbered and decided it wasn’t worth holding out.

Yamato nodded, apparently satisfied.  “If something goes wrong in this case of yours, I expect to hear about it along with those mysterious adult contacts of yours.”

“If it’s safe to tell you about it,” Eisuke said.

He turned to the others, suddenly very conscious that this was a goodbye.  

_I don’t even know when I’ll have money to travel to Japan again,_ he thought.   _Maybe not until after college, unless I do study abroad...I might not see them in person again for a long time._

“Sorry about Shinichi _-nii-chan_ ’s parents,” Shinichi said.

Eisuke winced.  “You couldn’t do much about that, Conan _-kun_.”

“Keep in touch, will ya?” Hattori said.  “Jus’ because all o’ this is done with...I don’t wanna stop talkin’ ta ya.”

“I’d like that,” Eisuke said.  “And...you said you had something you wanted to talk to me about.  So you should definitely call me for that, if nothing else.”

Heiji looked almost guilty at that.  “Yeah, I should.”

“Thanks, Eisuke, we couldn’t have done it without you,” Kaito said.  

“Oh, I very much doubt that,” Eisuke said.

“I don’t,” Shinichi said. “He’s right.  I’m glad I thought of asking for your help.”

Eisuke colored.

“Please take care of yourself, and of the doves,” Hakuba said quietly.  “I _can_ trust you with both of those tasks, can’t I?”

“Of course; I’ll be fine!” Eisuke said brightly.

Hakuba gave him a slightly dark look.

“Oh, that’s _weird_ ,” Eisuke said.  “I really will be okay, I think.  The doves are helping.  It’s good to not be alone in the apartment.  It’ll be good to keep in touch with you guys too...and I’m going to try to actually make friends with the guy who helped me board them.”

“Better,” Hakuba said approvingly.

“Then you should take better care of yourself, too,” Eisuke said.

“Not hard,” Kaito muttered.

“It seems important to all of you, so I will make an effort,” Hakuba said.

“Hey, Hattori _-san_ , you keep in touch, too,” Kaito said.

“Sure,” Heiji said.  “Am I allowed to text you?”

“What?” Kaito asked.  “Do you want my number?  Is this your way of asking?”

“He already has your number,” Shinichi said.  “You texted us all from your actual phone when you figured out Hakuba was in London.”

Kaito paled.

Hakuba looked embarrassed, of all things.

“Not like we’re gonna do anything with it, _geez_ ,” Heiji said.  “But, you know…”

“Yeah, you can text me, I guess,” Kaito said.   He turned to Hakuba.  “And what’s that look for?”

“You forgot _which phone_ you were using,” Hakuba said.  “Heaven help us if you ever try to cheat on a girlfriend.”

“I would _never_!”

“No, you apparently couldn’t pull it off,” Hakuba said, grinning.

“Why do you have two phones?” Yamato asked.

“What, you think we’re running around after dangerous people without burner phones?” Eisuke asked.  “I think I’m insulted.”

“You kids are a little scary, you know that?”

“Really, only a little?” Kaito asked, looking disappointed.

Yamato dragged a hand across his face.

“We don’t want to run late for Hondou- _kun_ ’s flight,” Morofushi said.

“Ya mean ya don’t want Inspector Yamato ta snap and start tryin’ ta yell Kuroba’s secrets outta him?” Heiji asked.

“That either,” Morofushi agreed.

“That wouldn’t work anyway,” Shinichi said.

“Have you tried?” Morofushi asked, looking intrigued.

Shinichi shrugged.  “We don’t want Hondou _-nii-san_ to miss the plane!”

“When did I graduate to _nii-san_?” Eisuke asked.

“Just now,” Shinichi said.  “Since we’re going to stay in touch, you can be Hondou _-nii-san_ and he,” he pointed to Kaito, “can be Kaito _-nii_ - _san_.”

“Oi, what’s with the first names?” Kaito asked.

“Your first name suits you better!” Shinichi said, grinning.

“You’re a brat!”

“You’re a Kaito!” Shinichi crowed, and Eisuke just _knew_ he was drawing out the “o” to get under Kaito’s skin.

“Don’t _call_ me that!”

“It’s your name though!”

“That’s _it_!” Yamato snapped.  “All of you, to the cars, _now_!”

“Yessir!” Kaito said, saluting.

“You’re an embarrassment,” Hakuba informed him, starting for the door.

Eisuke was aware that this wave of weird euphoria was going to wear off.  It was probably a result of realizing that they were no longer in danger, combined with the knowledge that they only had so long to joke around together like this in person.  But it was nice, nonetheless.

He headed for the door as well, and glanced down at Shinichi, who was going the same direction, towing a suitcase nearly as tall as he was.

“Hey, we pulled it off,” Eisuke said.

“We did, didn’t we?” Shinichi said, grinning.

Up ahead of them, Kaito and Hakuba were bickering about something.  He was animated, teasing--there was a lot of Kiyoshi in this Hakuba.  But at the same time, after seeing him act more naturally around the others, Eisuke could almost imagine the Hakuba they had known, before all of this.  That wouldn’t be the face he’d wear back to Tokyo, though.  They’d get the withdrawn, quietly suspicious Hakuba from the hotel room back, unless Eisuke missed his guess.  It would be all guarded silences until he was sure he was safe.

But for now, they were all okay.  And that was something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: brief discussion of workplace sexism and trauma in the first half; more trauma, paranoia and child/teenager endangerment in the second.
> 
> This is Eisuke’s last scene in person with the others, but he should be showing up at least once more by phone. Hattori is also not quite out of the story yet. But things are definitely shifting focus back to Tokyo, and primarily to the MK cast. 
> 
> I will try to get the next chapter out in a timely fashion but RL continues to kick my butt. Similarly, the review replies will happen, but I grow ever more behind. I love and appreciate all the comments, I just get overwhelmed easily and things keep happening.


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, general announcement time: real life is officially kicking my butt. I am trying to keep to a regular update schedule, and I will continue trying to do so. That said, if an update seems late, I would ask you to check my tumblr to see if I’ve posted a “no update today it’s time for the Community pizza gif” type message. It's not unlikely that this will happen again, unfortunately.
> 
> Warnings are in the end note. I was able to get the first half of this chapter to miladyRanger for betaing but she’s not seen the second half and it may have issues.

Heiji more ran than stepped off of the bullet train at Osaka station.  It had been quiet enough, but with how nervous he was right now, every noise had grated.  He’d just about shouted at some older man to stop turning the pages of his newspaper so loudly before he remembered himself.

He’d said goodbye to the others at the station, but he couldn’t help worrying about them.  If their plan went wrong...well, if it went wrong, he might not even find out.

Heiji was about to be grounded beyond his wildest dreams.  He’d figured out that was what he was bringing on himself sometime around when they left out the Tokyo airport.  And he was mostly okay with it.  

In the end, it came down to this: his father couldn’t know anything about where they were or what they were doing.  His father didn’t get angry quietly, and he didn’t keep his arguments with Heiji between them. He’d end up yelling to Otaki _-han_ or Kazuha’s dad about Heiji traipsing off to London while he was down at the precinct, not realizing that saying that in range of the wrong ears could get Hakuba killed.  Or worse, he’d just insist on getting involved in the case himself, which Heiji couldn’t allow.  His dad was too high-profile.  He’d throw everything into chaos just by entering the investigation, and possibly even get himself killed in the bargain.  Heiji wasn’t good enough to lie about this, so his only way out of this situation was coming home and refusing to tell his dad a thing about where he’d been.

His father wasn’t going to take this well, and he knew that.  Everything he’d ever been taught about respect ran directly contrary to what he’d been doing and what he was planning to do.  But his parents had also taught him about loyalty, and protecting people who couldn’t protect themselves.  And in the end, no matter how terrible he felt about it, Heiji was a homicide detective.  His first duty was keeping people alive.

His father couldn’t know why he was doing this, and so he wasn’t going to understand, but if he did, he’d probably say Heiji was choosing right.  He could tell himself that, for now.

He still had his cell phone--he’d brought it along, both so he could text from the airport and so no one would suspect he was trying to pull the same stunt as Hakuba--but it had been off until now.  He turned it on, found Otaki’s contact entry, and made the call.

“Hey, Otaki _-han_?”

“Hei _-chan_?” Otaki asked.  “Your father is _not_ happy.”

“I kinda figured,” Heiji said dryly.  “Hey, I’m at the train station.  Could ya give me a lift back ta my house?”

“Sorry, no can do,” Otaki said.  “Your dad’s _furious_.  If it looks like there’s even a chance I had somethin’ to do with you runnin’ off, he might actually sack me this time.”

“That bad?” Heiji asked.

“He’s gonna ground you until ya go ta college,” Otaki said.  “At best.  Good luck; you’ll need it.”

“Real encouragin’, Otaki _-han,_ ” Heiji muttered.  “Talk to ya later, assumin’ I’m allowed ta.”

“Glad you’re back safe,” Otaki replied, hanging up.

Well, that counted out Heiji’s preferred method of getting home.  A cab driver wasn’t such a good idea--he’d spent enough on this trip that his savings were starting to feel it.  He only got paid for some of his cases, after all.  About half of them he took on for free, or for tiny amounts that were more for the sake of his customers’ pride as paying customers rather than charity cases.  Mouri Kogoro and his family were evidence of the fact that being a private detective, particularly one with any particular moral code, wasn’t a lucrative pursuit.  

Normally, if he needed extra money for something important, he could just ask his parents, but that wasn’t happening.  Better to hold on to what savings he had for the moment, especially as he didn’t know if he’d even be taking any cases for a while.

That really only left him with one option.

Kazuha picked up almost immediately, and practically screamed his ear off.  “ _HEIJI_ what the h***?”

“S***, Kazuha, why don’t ya scream a little louder, maybe somebody in Tokyo’ll hear ya,” Heiji replied, annoyed.

“I’ll scream all I want, where the h***’ve ya been?” she demanded.

“Can’t tell ya, but I need a ride home,” Heiji said.

“Oh, I don’t think so, Mr. Great Detective,” Kazuha said.  “You do _not_ get ta waltz back here like nothin’ happened and ask for favors without explainin’ yourself.”

“Well, I don’t get ta explain myself, either, so deal wit’ it,” Heiji replied, temper fraying.  “It has been a h*** of a week, Kazuha, an’ I’m about ta go home an’ get myself grounded.  Cut me a break here?”

“Maybe if ya earned yourself one!” Kazuha snapped.  “Ya can’t jus’ go tearin’ off without even tellin’ anybody where yer goin’ or who yer gonna be with-- _s***_ , Heiji, I _know_ how dangerous yer cases get, what if you died?  Would we have even found out?”

A sudden spike of guilt piled up on top of all the anxiety and stress Heiji already had built up, and he found himself sitting down on his luggage.  “S***, sorry, Kazuha, I didn’t mean ta scare ya like that.  I wasn’t alone.  If anything had gone that wrong, someone woulda told you.”

“Yer not tellin’ me things like, ‘I wasn’t in danger,’” Kazuha said.

“I’m a crap liar, Kazuha,” Heiji said.  

Kazuha groaned.  “Why do you gotta do this stuff, Heiji?  If it’s the mental challenge, there are safer cases that’re just as hard--”

“It ain’t jus’ that, an’ you know it,” Heiji replied.  “I wanna help people.  Sometimes it gets kinda hairy, tryin’ ta do that.  I’m sorry it scares ya, but I ain’t sorry ta do it.”

“Ya still coulda told me where you were goin’,” Kazuha grumbled.  “Ya used ta tell me everything, Heiji.”

Heiji’s throat felt dry.  “Yeah, I’m sorry.  But my dad couldn’t find out, and I knew he’d have a while ta try an’ get it out of ya.  I didn’t wanna put you in that kinda position.”

“Maybe let me decide that, next time?” Kazuha said.  “Yer dad’s the superintendent general of police, sure, but I don’t work for ‘im.”

“If that’s what you really want...hey, could ya do somethin’ else?” Heiji asked. “I was callin’ ta see if yer dad could drive me home, but this is more important.”

“What is it?” Kazuha asked, immediately suspicious.

“If my dad takes my cell phone or somethin’, I need ya ta text Conan _-kun_ and let ‘im know,” Heiji said.

“He mixed up in all of this?”

“I really can’t talk about it.”

“What the _h***_ , did you actually find something classified this time?” Kazuha demanded.

“Close enough,” Heiji said.  “Look, just, text ‘im, if I can’t, an’ also tell him ta text you if anything goes wrong over in Tokyo.”

“Goes wrong how?” Kazuha asked.

“He’ll know what I mean,” Heiji said.

“If ya say so,” Kazuha said.  “I’ll do it, but this is weird and I want ya to explain.”

“I really can’t, an’ stop askin’ me to, okay?” Heiji said.

“Fine, fine,” Kazuha sighed.  “I’ll ask Dad to go down to the station an’ get ya.”

“Thanks, Kazuha,” Heiji said.  “Didn’t mean ta scare ya.”

“Think o’ that before ya take off without any warnin’, next time, ‘kay?”

“I’ll try,” Heiji said.

Kazuha sighed, and then hung up on him, but her dad did show up not that long afterward, so she clearly wasn’t _completely_ furious with him.

“Your father’s goin’ ta ground you for the rest o’ yer nat’ral life,” Toyama Ginshirou informed him.

“Yeah, I know,” Heiji said.

“The heck were you thinkin’, kid?”

“If I don’t tell you, you don’t know, and you can’t get in trouble fer knowin’,” Heiji said.

Ginshirou just stared at him.

“I really can’t explain to you how long a week I’ve had,” Heiji said.  “I want to sleep, fer, like, days, but I gotta go get yelled at.  Can we jus’ go?”

“You okay, Heiji _-kun_?”

“Don’t think so, but things could be worse,” Heiji said. “C’mon, best ta get this over with.”

“The h*** were you up to?”

“ _Really_ can’t tell you that,” Heiji said.

“I’m tellin’ yer mom I’m worried,” Ginshirou replied.

“Ya do that,” Heiji said.  “Talk loud.  Maybe she’ll be able ta hear ya over Dad yellin’.”

Ginshirou sighed and opened the trunk.  “Get your luggage loaded up, okay?”

Heiji actually fell asleep in the car, somehow.  He was pretty sure he’d passed anxiety and moved on to some sort of state of vague, detached apathy.  Things weren’t going to get much worse for him unless the Black Organization actually showed up, and if the others were in danger, he couldn’t do a single thing about it.  Everything was out of his hands at this point.

He woke up when they stopped at his house, thanked Ginshirou for the ride, and unloaded his suitcase.  He took a few seconds on the sidewalk to brace himself, then hefted his suitcase and walked up to the door.

He didn’t even have to knock--Ginshirou must have texted before he left.

The door swung open, revealing his dad, face already reddening with anger.

“ _WHERE WERE YOU?”_ he demanded.

Heiji stood his ground and kept his mouth shut.  

_Oh, yeah, this is gonna be fun_ , he thought, in mild despair.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“This is ridiculous, and we’re _going_ to be seen,” Hakuba said, shoving his hands even deeper into the pockets of a pair of borrowed jeans.

_Those aren’t the ones he borrowed from me_ , Kaito thought.   _Hope they’re at least Heiji’s; sending something back to Eisuke is gonna get expensive_.

Kaito’s plan of immediately returning Hakuba home had been delayed by a very inconvenient piece of logistics.  Hakuba had passed as himself to Inspector Yamato by borrowing one of Kaito’s wigs and styling it closely enough to his normal appearance that a man who was more his father’s friend than his own wouldn’t notice the difference.  But he couldn’t just go home like that--wigs weren’t a long-term solution.  He was stuck with his hair cut short, but it needed to be dyed back to blond, at least, or people were going to get rightfully suspicious about his natural hair color.

Obviously, he couldn’t do that at home, as he apparently normally did.  And he’d categorically refused to so much as approach Kaito’s house if there was even a chance his mother would be inside of it.   So somehow, things had come to this.

“I don’t think the professor’s home,” Shinichi announced, turning away from the intercom button on his childhood neighbor’s front gate, still perched on tip-toe.  “If he is, he’s not answering the door, and neither is Haibara.”

“Okay, what now?” Kaito asked.  “I remember you said we can’t go over to your place--”

“Definitely not,” Hakuba agreed.

Shinichi gave him a sharp glance.  “And how, exactly, do you know about that?”

“It’s really better you don’t ask,” Hakuba said, looking more uncomfortable than ever.  

Shinichi just shook his head. “We don’t have to go over there; I know how to get into the professor’s house.”

“And he’s fine with that?” Kaito asked.

“He’d rather I was able to get in there if something went _really_ wrong with one of his inventions,” Shinichi said.  He paused for a second.  “You know, it might be for the best that he’s not here. I think we’re all a little too stressed out to be dealing with the possibility of random explosions.”

He pressed a few buttons below the intercom, then gestured to Kaito.  “Guests first?”

Kaito raised an eyebrow.

Shinichi wilted.  “The gate’s weighted.  Usually if it’s just the kids we let Genta push it open because he’s got more leverage…”

Kaito beamed at him.

“Not another word!” Shinichi growled.

“You two can bicker inside the house while I’m dyeing my hair,” Hakuba said primly, pushing past Shinichi and slipping through the gate.

Shinichi sighed and followed him, leaving Kaito to scramble to catch up before the gate closed on him and he had to climb over.  No need to make Shinichi’s paranoia worse than it already was.

The house was about how he’d expected, given what Shinichi had mentioned about the professor over the past few weeks.  There were bits and bobs of inventions scattered across most of the flat surfaces, mixed up with manga and toys and other bits of evidence that three young children practically lived here and another pretend-child did.  There were bits of the wall that had obviously been repaired more than once, and some bits of charring that peeked out from behind extra coats of paint.  

Even as Hakuba went into the bathroom with the hair dye they’d purchased on the way from the station, he couldn’t help glancing around in curiosity, cataloging the evidence of repair.

“How often _do_ his inventions go wrong?” he asked, half-aghast.

“Might as well ask how often he invents things,” Shinichi muttered.  He paused, then said.  “Okay, that’s unfair.  He’s good with mechanics--great, even.  He just has weird ideas, and he keeps making jet-powered things even though he’s really bad at calculating fuel amounts.”

“Okay, that makes sense,” Kaito said, appreciating the dents in the ceiling with new eyes.  “Still stupid of him, but it makes sense.”

“Half of your tricks are potentially fatal if you get them wrong,” Shinichi pointed out.  “You’re not in much of a position to judge.”

“I practice those, so I don’t die,” Kaito said.  “He could at least try testing things that are likely to burn the walls in the basement, or something!”

“He tried, but it’s Haibara’s lab now, and one of the rocket-powered roller skates almost went through the monitor of her computer,” Shinichi said.  “She kicked him out after that.”

“I don’t--” Kaito stopped short.  “Did you say _rocket-powered roller skates_?”

“Yes?”

“Does Professor Agasa have any old friends who run bars, by any chance?”

“I think he mentioned someone, once…” Shinichi said, looking thoughtful.  “Why?”

_The same person that was responsible for the freakin’ soccer ball makes all those weird gadgets Jii’s always bringing out before heists_ , Kaito thought numbly.   _I can never tell Shinichi._

“That’s a weird facial expression…” Shinichi remarked.  “What did you figure out?”

“It’s nothing you would care about, I promise!” Kaito lied.

“You’re lying!”

Kaito laughed nervously.  “Now, why would I do a thing like that?”

He managed to keep Kudou off of that particular scent, just barely, until Hakuba finally emerged from the bathroom.  His hair was still wet and appeared almost brown, but it was already starting to dry to the familiar shade of blond Kaito was used to at the tips.  

He’d redone his facial makeup, and the combination was startling.  Kaito hadn’t realized until now, but for the last few days, Hakuba hadn’t looked _quite_ like himself.  Some of it was probably hastily done makeup work, the rest, likely, the change in hair color and length, which changed both the apparent tone and shape of his face.  Now, while his face still looked more angular than it did when his hair was long, his skin tone no longer contrasted quite as sharply with his hair.  Additionally, his eyes were dark again.  Kaito wasn’t sure where he’d gotten colored contacts, or if he’d had them all along.  But he hadn’t been wearing them on the train ride, and he wasn’t precisely sure if he’d worn them in Nagano.

The borrowed jeans still didn’t quite fit right, and his shirt, borrowed from Kaito, was far more wrinkled than anything Kaito had ever seen him wear.  But he still looked more like himself than he had since the last time Kaito had seen him at school.

“You ready?” Kaito asked.

“As I ever will be, I suppose,” Hakuba replied, tugging a bit at the hem of the shirt.

“Get him home safe, okay?” Shinichi said, making brief eye contact with Kaito.  

“I will,” Kaito promised.  “You okay to get home?  Do you need any relatives impersonated?”

“Nah, I’m just gonna call Ran as Professor Agasa and tell her my parents dropped me off here,” Shinichi said.  “Either I’ll walk home or she’ll pick me up.”

Kaito nodded.  “Thanks again for your help.”  He wasn’t just talking about Shinichi getting them into Agasa’s house to dye Hakuba’s hair, and he was pretty sure Shinichi would picku up on that.

Shinichi grinned, small and pleased.  “You’re very welcome.”

He grinned back, then turned his attention to Hakuba.  “Shall we?”

Hakuba didn’t look too certain, but he followed Kaito when he walked out the door, so Kaito figured that was some kind of “yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for: Small description of sensory overload, teenagers in peril, discussion of unreasonable punishments, emotional distress, unhealthy stress reactions
> 
> If I were awake I might put a detailed opinion about the Hattoris here. I’m not. Basically, I think they’re a little complicated in ways that are different than the other families from DCMK in this fic and I’ve written Heizou to reflect that.
> 
> I will catch up to the FFN reviews eventually.


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter chapter than I‘d prefer this week, on account of real life. It suffices to say that I’ve been having fun. 
> 
> At any rate, miladyRanger remains the best beta and you really should check the end-notes if you think you might need warnings for things. This chapter’s also got some additional notes.

Shinichi left his suitcases at the professor’s, as he was not really interested in trying to drag them home without help.  The professor wasn’t answering his cell phone, so in the end he’d just left a note atop the luggage with a request for the professor to drop them off at the Mouri Detective Agency when he was able to.

For now, he was climbing the stairs up to the agency, slotting lies together in his head as he went.

He didn’t want to slip back into this, into being Conan, into lying with every other word and keeping every identifying aspect of himself buried for his own safety.  But it was familiar, like putting on a discarded set of clothes.

He hadn’t fully appreciated how nice it had been in England, just to be himself, short or not.  Now that he was giving it up, he realized how precious that week had been.

But it was over.  This was reality, until Ai found a cure.  

He knocked on the agency’s door.  

“Mouri Detective Age--what the--” Mouri broke off, cigarette dangling from his limp as he stared down at Conan.  “Where’s your mom?”

“She dropped me off at Professor Agasa’s house, so my luggage is still there,” Shinichi said.  “He was busy with something, so he’s going to bring it over for me later.”

“Any reason he couldn’t have brought it over now?” Mouri asked.  “Geez, he could’ve at least walked you over here…”

“I walk to the Professor’s all the time!” Shinichi protested.

“It’s the middle of the day, kid, you’re supposed to be in school!” Mouri said.  “You just watch, some nosy housewife who saw you wandering around is gonna call me about you cutting class…”

_That’s not my problem,_ Shinichi thought _._

Mouri sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.  “Look, just get inside, will ya?”

Shinichi sighed, and walked in, taking off his shoes at the _genkan_.

The Agency was the same as always.  The scent of tobacco layered over the faint lingering smell of lemon-scented cleaning solution. At least the place smelled less like beer nowadays, though there was one or two beer cans mixed in with the pile of junk making its home on the edge of Mouri’s desk.

“Ran was near the elementary school on errands earlier this week and picked up some of your homework for you.  It’s on your bed.  You might as well get started on it now.”

“But--”

“I’m watching Yoko _-chan_ out here.  You’re home from vacation now; time to get back to work, kid.”

Shinichi put on a pout and stomped a bit as he headed back to his room.

Inwardly, though, he just felt relief.

Kiddy homework wasn’t great.  It was a reminder that kiddy school was waiting for him tomorrow.  But it didn’t involve being a cute little kid in front of Mouri.

He didn’t want to be back at the detective agency.  He didn’t want to have to start lying to Ran again as soon as she got home from school.  

But the trip, all the hassle and danger and pain, it had been worth it.  They’d found Saguru.  They’d all gotten back to Tokyo safely.  For that matter, Saguru was heading home, right now, with an overprotective KID practically hovering over his shoulder every step along the way.

Settling back into this, to being something he wasn’t, wasn’t going to be easy.  If it ever got easy, he’d probably end up panicking over it.

But it was doable, and it was necessary.  He could deal with that.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Kaito was sitting in an alley doing card tricks because he’d lost control of his life.

Well, and because Hakuba had lost control of his ability to regulate his breathing and was possibly having a panic attack.  It sure _looked_ like a panic attack.  He was crouched with his back against the wall of one of the buildings that made up the alley, fingers cupped over his mouth and nose and shoulders hunched up to the point where they were almost level with his ears.  His face was pale, his breathing was ragged, and his eyes weren’t as far off as they’d been back in his apartment in London, but they weren’t quite _here_ either.

Kaito had made a game effort at remembering all that stuff he’d read about panic attacks.  There’d definitely been something about counting, and breathing…

Hakuba had _not_ liked that advice.

His precise response had been more along the lines of, “If you can’t remember what the actual instructions were, keep it to yourself,” coupled with, “And this is _not_ a panic attack.”

Kaito’s normally precise memory was folding under both stress and the fact that he hadn’t bothered with remembering how you were supposed to deal with it when a person was having a panic attack in his research of them.  Honestly, he hadn’t really got much past figuring out the signs of one to know if he was having one, which was kind of short-sighted now that he thought about it.

So he’d done the only thing he could think of and gotten out a deck of cards.  Hey, it calmed both of them down when they did card tricks.  And...they were faint for him, and probably more so for Hakuba, but he did have memories of watching his dad do simple tricks at the kitchen table, and feeling as happy and safe as he ever had in his life.

He had no idea if it was working.  Hakuba didn’t seem quite as tightly strung as he’d been when he’d started, but that could be the effect of time rather than his efforts.  It was hard to tell.

It retroactively occurred to him that he could use his phone to look up that information, but he wasn’t sure if it would be better to continue what he was doing or not.

“Hakuba?” he ventured.

Hakuba made a sound of acknowledgement.

“I’m going to get out my phone and look up panic attacks--”

“It isn’t,” Hakuba said. “I’m fine.”

“You aren’t breathing right,” Kaito said.

That sat between them like a smoke bomb ready to go off.

“Not breathing right” meant unfit, in KID’s parlance.  You needed to control your breath to do gymnastics, to dodge snipers, to alter your voice and to stay functional while piloting the glider at altitudes miles above the ground.  Even during that mistake of a heist when Kaito was still injured, he’d made sure he could control his breathing properly, or at least to some extent, before he put on the dress whites.  

“No, I’m not,” Hakuba allowed, which was as close to admitting he wasn’t okay as he was likely to get at this point in time.

“So, am I allowed to look up ways of fixing that?” Kaito asked.

“Unnecessary,” Hakuba declared.  “It’s...not as bad now.  Just give me a bit.”

“Right,” Kaito said.  After a few seconds, he offered, “Want the cards?”

“Not now,” Hakuba said.  

_Hands must be shaking again, or covering his mouth like that is helping,_ Kaito thought.

Well, the tricks were helping _him_ not panic, and they might be a good distraction, so he kept running through them, shuffles and flourishes and sometimes just plain juggling.

As Hakuba’s face started to return to its normal coloring, he said, “Pick a card.”

“We know all the same tricks,” Hakuba said, and there was almost a laugh in his voice.

“Okay, then pick out which one I’m doing,” Kaito said.  “But first, pick a card.”

Hakuba extended a hand, revealing the shaky grin on his face.  His breathing was starting to sound more even.  He plucked a card from the stack in Kaito’s hand.

“Nine of diamonds.”

Kaito grinned.

“All right, now put it back,” he said.

“I _am_ aware of how this works,” Hakuba replied, replacing the card.

“Okay, nothing up my sleeves!” Kaito announced cheerily, slipping the card out of the deck with a--

“Tenkai palm.”

“Really?” Kaito complained.

“I’ve been doing this longer than you,” Hakuba said smugly.

“I’ll practice until I can fool you,” Kaito said.

“Are you _certain_ about that kind of time commitment?” Hakuba asked.

Kaito grinned back.  “Feeling any better?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Hakuba said.  He was quiet for a few seconds, and then added, more softly, “Thank you.”

“You ready to go?” Kaito asked, standing.  “Because...I’m gonna be honest, I don’t like the idea, but if you really don’t think you can handle going home today, we can figure something else out.  I’m not sure what yet, but--”

“No,” Hakuba said.  “I need to do this.”

“You keep saying things like that, like you think they won’t be grateful to see you,” Kaito said.  “Like you don’t want to see them.”

“I…I don’t _not_ want to see them,” Hakuba hedged.  “But I don’t quite believe in this welcome you seem to think I’ll receive.  I’ve caused no end of trouble, I’ve actively deceived them--perhaps this return really will be as uncomplicated as you believe it will be, but it really doesn’t seem very likely to me!”  He turned toward the mouth of the alley.  “Let’s go before I lose my nerve again.”

“Hakuba _-san_ \--” Kaito started, following.

“I would appreciate it if you were to cease pushing the matter.”

“But--”

“Kuroba _-san_!” Hakuba all but bit out.  “This is, strangely enough, not making me less anxious.”

Well, that was a reason to shut up.

Hakuba slowed as they entered his neighborhood.  They’d had the good sense to avoid the normal police patrol routes, so he wasn’t noticed by a work friend, but these were his neighbors, and they couldn’t avoid walking past their houses without taking to the roofs and potentially attracting even more attention.

Fortunately, no one noticed them.  It was still early enough in the afternoon that most students and office workers were away, which was in their favor.  And all too soon, they found themselves in front of the Hakuba Mansion.

Hakuba wasn’t moving from the sidewalk in front of the house.  Kaito wasn’t completely sure he was breathing, either.

“Hey,” he said, carefully.  “Stay with me here, okay?”

“I-I’m here,” Hakuba said.  “That’s rather the problem, actually.  I’m entirely unready for this.  I--I don’t want--”

“It’s--” _I can’t promise that.  I’m almost positive it will be, but I can’t promise it will be fine_.  “I’ll stay with you, for as long as you’d like me to, if it’ll help,” he said.

“Despite all logic ruling going against it, it actually would,” Hakuba said.  

“Okay, how do we do this?” Kaito asked.  “Does the front gate have an intercom?”

Hakuba nodded.  

“Do you, uh…” he trailed off.  “They’re gonna think it’s weird if I’m the one that asks to be let in.”

Hakuba looked at him oddly.

“Look, Mom and I were suspects when the police were suspects, back when the police were making sure you hadn’t been kidnapped,” Kaito said.  “Since Mom was investigating and the two of us don’t get along.”

“That can’t have gone well,” Hakuba said.

“We made up a crock story about me falling down some stairs that I probably should’ve filled you in on more at some point, but--”

“How was I involved?” Hakuba asked.

“You stopped me from falling down the stairs,” Kaito said.  “I had a fever.  In the story.  That was our explanation for why you were at the house.”

“So you had to lie to the police during a missing persons investigation,” Hakuba said, running a hand through his hair.  “Wonderful.  I really did make everything more complicated.”

“Mom did most of the lying, I was mostly a visual aid on pain medication,” Kaito said.

“Is that supposed to be comforting?” Hakuba asked.

“Just use the intercom,” Kaito grumbled.

“I--” Hakuba started.

“If I can survive your dad, that Division One cop Conan likes, and the little murder magnet himself all trying to question me when I’m full of pain meds, you can at least try the intercom,” Kaito said.

“Conan _-kun_ too?” Hakuba asked.  “Your luck really is something to behold.”

“Stop stalling,” Kaito pressed.  “Get it over with. Worrying over it isn’t going to change a thing.”

“I suppose not,” Hakuba said, and approached the intercom button.

He took a breath.  “Ah, Baaya?”

“ _Bocchama?”_

Kaito had never met Hakuba’s housekeeper, though he mentioned her in conversation occasionally.  From this one word, it was clear that she was both as old as Jii and as traditional, and also that Hakuba was more to her than just her employer’s child.

Hakuba had frozen up again.  Kaito would’ve normally nudged him, but with the way he’d been over the last few days, he was afraid that unwarned contact was more likely to be interpreted as an attack than as a reminder to respond.

“Hakuba _-san_ ,” he said.

Hakuba cleared his throat, shakily, and pressed the intercom button again.

“Yes, I--it’s, ah, I--I’m sorry,” Hakuba said.  “I didn’t mean--”

“You can stop apologizing now, I think,” Kaito said.  “Let her talk, maybe?”

“But--”

“She’s not upset, right?” Kaito prompted.

Cautiously, Hakuba let his hand fall away from the intercom button.

“Stay _right_ there,” Baaya ordered, sounding choked.  

And a few minutes later, there was an old woman in a conservative dress and low heels running down the driveway.  Kaito wasn’t sure how much of Hakuba’s occasional failure with social cues was acting and how much of it was legitimate and the result of him getting lost in his head, but he was pretty sure most people would have a hard time misreading Baaya’s obviously wet eyes and elated expression.

Then again, Hakuba had frozen up _again_ , so maybe not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Smoking (hey, the MPAA warns for it, I might as well too) and Conan’s general identity issues plus a bit of a downer ending in the first part; a vaguely described outsider POV panic attack, questionable coping mechanisms, self-esteem issues, and general discussion of Hakuba and Kaito’s distorted perceptions of themselves and how others see them.
> 
> I was deliberately very vague in the description of Hakuba having a panic attack. I don’t want to set myself up as any kind of authority here. As for Kaito’s method of response—that was also deliberate. I’m wary of making all the characters too competent, particularly in areas outside of their specialties. I’ve read that before, and it’s kinda freaking creepy; the characters end up feeling like a hive mind. So Kaito’s actually kinda not that great at this, or at least not from an expert perspective. He’s doing decently as a friend though, which is sometimes the best you can manage.
> 
> I am getting to the reviews I haven’t gotten to, but please forgive me my slowness. Things are a little nutsy IRL and it’s hard keeping up sometimes.


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter, real life has yet again been a trial. I hope the wait was worth it, though!
> 
> I cannot stress how amazing a beta miladyRanger is. That said, she didn’t get to look at the whole chapter, so any mistakes are mine and mine alone. Also, as always, warnings in the end note if you need them!

The gate opened soundlessly.  Hakuba didn’t move, and for a moment, neither did Baaya, beyond pulling her hand away from the button used to operate the gate.

But then, she walked through, gait slow and steady, heels clicking so softly against the pavement that Kaito barely caught the noise over Tokyo’s late afternoon traffic.  Kaito hadn’t known civilians knew how to do that, and was torn between duly impressed and mildly wary.

“Saguru _-bocchama_ ,” she said, voice thin, stopping within arm’s length of Hakuba and carefully extending an arm toward his shoulder.  She didn’t touch him, but instead glanced at his expression, and when she saw the same frozen quality Kaito had noticed earlier, she let her hand drop to her side.

That, on its own, was enough to demonstrate to Kaito that this was where Hakuba belonged.  Maybe Baaya didn’t know _why_ Hakuba didn’t like to be touched--heck, Kaito didn’t even know for sure, he just had a few better-informed guesses--but she was aware of it, and she cared enough to respect it over her own desire to confirm that Hakuba was alive and well.

Hakuba took a breath, then bowed at the waist, one of those nearly ninety-degree bows that Kaito didn’t think people actually _did_ in real life, or at least not outside of boardrooms in which they were about to be fired.  Baaya actually had to move several steps backward in order to accommodate the movement.

“I am sorry for worrying you,” he said quietly, not moving from the position.

Baaya flushed, then snapped, “You--you _stop_ that, right this instant!  It’s not proper!  If you’re sorry you left, your first step in making it right was coming back, wasn’t it?  So _stop_ that!”

Hakuba straightened, wide-eyed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--”

_It’s like watching a train crash,_ Kaito thought.  “Um, not to interrupt,” he said, _except that is my exact intention,_ “but maybe we could go inside?  I don’t think it would really help matters if one of the neighbors notices all the excitement and decides to call the Superintendent-General before you get a chance to, ma’am.”

Kaito suddenly found himself the focus of Baaya’s intense stare.  “And who are you, exactly?”

Kaito gave her the most winning grin he could muster.  “I’m Kuroba Kaito, pleased to meet you!  Hakuba _-san_ and I are classmates.”

Baaya’s eyes narrowed.  “You’re KID,” she said flatly, because apparently Kaito’s week, near assassinations by the Black Org and all, had not been exciting _enough_.

“That has never been proven,” he managed, somehow, Poker Face firmly in place, “and has in fact been disproven more than once.”

Hakuba had the nerve to glance over and smirk before saying to Baaya, “I’m not considering him an active suspect any longer.”

“Aren’t you?” Baaya asked, raising an eyebrow.  Without waiting for an answer, she said.  “Well, more importantly, is he here to snoop about like his mother?”

“He’d need more practice to be any good at detective work,” Hakuba said, still grinning.

Well, he was having fun at Kaito’s expense, but he _was_ at least relaxing.  Kaito was willing to take it.  

“So would she,” Kaito offered.

“True enough,” Hakuba said.

“You should respect your elders,” Baaya scolded.

“I would normally agree with you on this matter, but in Kuroba’s case…” Hakuba trailed off.  “I believe you called her ‘awful’ when she first spoke with you?”

“Okay, that’s enough of that, she’s not a terrible person, she’s just not a detective,” Kaito grumbled.

Hakuba huffed in disbelief, then addressed Baaya.  “He can be safely allowed into the house.”

Baaya nodded, and led the two of them inside.  Teasing Kaito seemed to have calmed Hakuba down enough that he wasn’t radiating unease any longer, but there was still a noticeable hesitance to his movements.  Kaito was just thanking whoever was listening that Baaya hadn’t actually told him to leave--he’d been half-convinced that he would be told to leave so Hakuba’s family could reunite with him in private.  They had the right.

But he didn’t want Hakuba out of his sight right now.  Hakuba wasn’t okay, but he was good at pretending he was, and it scared Kaito in a way that wasn’t completely rational.  It was fine if people didn’t know when _he_ was hurting--that was optimal, if people knew when he was hurting they might link it with KID somehow and that was a problem.  But it was essential that _he_ knew when other people were hurting.  Otherwise, how would he be able to help them?

And leaving Hakuba with other people, who might not even know he _was_ pretending, who hadn’t been around for the roller coaster ride of the last few days and didn’t know how to spot Poker Face?  That scared him the way bullets scared him.

The Hakuba mansion, on the other hand, just made him a little nervous.  Kaito didn’t belong in places this big and fancy, not out of the dress whites.  Not that he had any intention whatsoever of robbing the Hakuba family, but Kuroba Kaito, the ordinary student wearing the same wrinkled civilian clothes he’d had on for the flight from England, didn’t belong in a place like this.

He still refused to let Hakuba out of his sight, though, so he followed Baaya through the front door, into a foyer that was almost entirely Western-style apart from the _genkan_ and a hanging scroll painting on one of the walls that was _definitely_ not a reproduction.  Neither was the framed 19th-century Impressionist landscape on the opposite wall.  

_Yeah, seriously, this is the kind of place I only visit to rob,_ Kaito thought faintly.

“I’ll just go put on some tea,” Baaya said.  “If you boys will just go sit in the living room...though, perhaps you’d like to go up to your room instead, Saguru?  I did put it back to rights, after your father’s men were finished looking over how you’d--” she broke off, shook her head, and continued.  “At any rate, they didn’t attempt to hold any of your things in evidence.  You can also go check on Watson, if you’d like, though I’d really rather you weren’t wandering around the grounds until after I tell the rest of the staff you’ve returned--”

Hakuba, halfway to one of the places where the foyer opened into another room, halted midstep.

“Watson?” he asked, interrupting.

“...You haven’t forgotten her, have you?” Baaya asked, concern deepening the wrinkles around her eyes.

“No, of course not, but--you said you wouldn’t take care of her,” Hakuba said.  “I had assumed, in my absence, she would be rehomed.”

Baaya sighed.  “But then you would have missed her when you came back.”

Hakuba took a breath, then frowned.  “I thought I made it clear, when I left, that I didn’t intend to return.  I really don’t understand how so many people failed so badly to comprehend that.”

“Then why _did_ you come back?” Baaya asked, an edge of frustration creeping into her voice.  “I want you to be here.  I want you to come home.  But I don’t intend to stand by and let you break your parents’ hearts again if you don’t intend to stay.”

Kaito didn’t like the way Hakuba’s posture shifted.  It looked like a defensive stance; it said bad things about Hakuba’s frame of mind.  So he broke in.

“I helped drag him back, and I’ll do it again if I have to,” Kaito said.

“Excuse me,” Hakuba bit out, in a tone that all but added _you barely caught me this time, what makes you think you can pull it off again?_

Kaito just grinned back.

Baaya smiled at him, and there was something softer to it this time.  “Well, then, thank you.”

Kaito felt his cheeks heat up.  “Ah--it’s not that I was looking for gratitude or anything, I just thought you might like to know that someone was making sure he wouldn’t keep running off--”

“I’ll thank who I like,” Baaya said primly.  “Now, you boys go sit down, please.  I really do think a pot of tea is the best thing for this situation.”

Hakuba sighed.  “The living room is this way, Kuroba _-san_ ,” he said.

Kaito glanced after Baaya for a second, before following Hakuba.  Hopefully she’d have some time to gather herself while making the tea, and they could all have a nice, calm conversation when she brought it in.

_....who am I kidding, this is going to be a mess,_ he thought.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Tsuyoshi had been in the middle of finalizing paperwork to move some officers from Traffic to Narcotics when he’d gotten the text.  Baaya was actually an avid texter for a woman of her generation; she’d taken to the technology like a fish to water once she’d realized that it allowed her to communicate with her employer and other house staff without pausing in her work to hold an entire spoken conversation.  Her texts were always about household matters, but they were by no means infrequent.  

They were also always fully grammatical, which meant that when she sent the message, _COME HOME NOW.  NOT A POLICE MATTER.  WILL EXPLAIN IN PERSON_ , he’d been somewhat alarmed.

If she hadn’t included “not a police matter,” he would have brought at least two squad cars and a few officers as backup. As it was, he was promising the taxi driver who was taking him home extra if they could get him through Tokyo’s traffic as quickly as possible without breaking any traffic laws.  Fortunately, the man was earning that money, and his house was already in sight.

There was no visible emergency, nor was Baaya waiting at the gate.  He couldn’t even tell if his wife had been called home as well, though, even if she had, she might not have been able to come.  Both of them worked in emergency services, but police matters, and particularly police paperwork, were much easier to delegate for short periods of time.  Additionally, while Tsuyoshi tried not to abuse it overmuch, he was in a position that allowed him to take time off at his own discretion, whereas his wife still answered to a direct supervisor.

The front gate, he noticed, was unlocked.  Not broken, but rather left open.  Apparently, whatever had happened required that Baaya not wait by the intercom for his arrival.  He slipped through and approached the house at a light jog, still scanning for any hint of what might be wrong. Everything seemed to be in place, though.  He really couldn’t make sense of it.

When he knocked at the door, it took nearly a solid minute for Baaya to answer.  She was physically fine, but her eyes were bloodshot and the skin around them was red.  

“Baaya, what’s happened?” Tsuyoshi asked, careful to keep his voice level.

Baaya bit her lip for a moment.  From inside, Tsuyoshi heard china clattering against a table, followed by an irate, young-sounding voice.  For a moment, he almost thought--but it wasn’t quite low enough to be Saguru’s.

“He’s come home,” Baaya said softly.  “I’m not sure what happened--he didn’t _want_ to come back, his classmate apparently did something to bring him, and he won’t talk about why--but he’s _here_.”

Tsuyoshi’s throat dried out in an instant.  He wanted to ask Baaya to move aside so he could _go see his son_ , but he could neither figure out how to say it politely nor force the words past the lump in his throat.

Baaya seemed to understand, however.  She stepped aside, eyes now distinctly wet.  “Perhaps...if you talk to him…”

Tsuyoshi wasn’t sure if he would have any success in doing so.  He’d tried talking to Saguru so many times over the last year, and yet he’d still run away, in the end. But he would be _d*mned_ if he didn’t at least try.

“Where?” he asked, voice still catching in his throat.  That wouldn’t do.  He’d have to at least try to get himself together before talking to Saguru.

“Living room,” Baaya said, and Tsuyoshi barely spared the time to take off his shoes before following her directions.

Saguru was there.  A few months ago, that would have been nothing more than a mild surprise, as it was a bit early for him to be home from school, but now--

Just seeing him, sitting on the couch, moving, _breathing_ \--

He looked a mess.  Once again, he was in ill-fitting clothes, but this time they were too small, the ends of the sleeves not quite extending to cover wrists that were bonier than they had been when last Tsuyoshi saw him.  He’d cut his hair short, and while it could have looked well on him, given circumstances, it only served to make more obvious the way his skin pulled just a bit more tightly around his cheekbones than was healthy. There were shadows under his eyes.  And worst of all, he looked nervous.  He wasn’t even hiding it.  Every line of his posture said he wanted to run away, and there was fear plain to read in his eyes.

Tsuyoshi wanted to approach him, to offer some reassurance, perhaps to even borrow some of his wife’s English customs and just _hug_ the boy, but he knew it wouldn’t be well-received.

Not when he rather suspected he was the object of fear in this situation.

“Saguru,” he said, softly, slowly.  “I am so glad to see you.  Welcome home.”

“I’m back,” Saguru replied, mechanically.  His eyes weren’t focused.  

Tsuyoshi had seen him like this, before.  Usually only late at night, when Tsuyoshi had been up late with paperwork and Saguru had been wandering the house sleepless.  Any offer Tsuyoshi made to listen to accounts of his nightmares had always been met with curt refusal.  For that matter, every gentle attempt Tsuyoshi had made to steer Hakuba toward talking to someone, to getting help for dealing with what Tsuyoshi suspected was a sizable collection of demons, had been soundly rebuffed.  He wished, now, that he hadn’t taken no for an answer so easily.  Would this have happened, if he’d been even a little more firm about the matter?

“Okay, dude, you’re gonna scare the superintendent-general,” Kuroba Kaito said, interrupting Tsuyoshi’s thoughts.  “Not good.  It’s, uh--” he took a phone out of his pocket-- “Probably like a second past 3:12 in the afternoon, here, and we’re having Baaya’s awesome tea, and now is a time for paying attention.”

Tsuyoshi hadn’t even _noticed_ the Kuroba boy’s presence in the room.  But there he was.  In contrast to Tsuyoshi’s son, Kaito looked much better than he had when last Tsuyoshi saw him, though that was no great feat.  When he’d accompanied his mother to the police station, “death warmed over” had been an apt description of his appearance.  

He also appeared to be using grounding techniques on Saguru, which raised a number of questions, none of them likely to have pleasant answers.

“It is, isn’t it?” Saguru replied quietly.  “Apologies.”

Kaito turned to Tsuyoshi.  “I can, uh, go, now,” he said.  “You probably want to talk, and--”

Saguru looked even more alarmed.  Tsuyoshi didn’t understand, as the last he knew, these two were on poor terms.  But he didn’t need to understand it; he just needed Saguru to feel as safe as he could.

“Please stay, if you would,” Tsuyoshi said.  “I trust you can be discrete?”

Kaito blinked.  “Oh, uh, yeah.  I’m _great_ at discrete.  Discrete is my specialty.”

Saguru actually chuckled at that, though his posture was still strung with tension and the laughter never even approached his eyes.

Tsuyoshi approached as quietly as he could, pulling up half-remembered lessons about how to walk during stakeouts, and sat down in the chair across from the couch on which Saguru and Kaito were sitting.  One of the coffee tables that his wife’s family had sent over from England sat between them, with a pot of Baaya’s tea sitting atop it.  The scent of chamomile lingered in the air--apparently Tsuyoshi wasn’t the only one who’d noticed how tense Saguru seemed.

“Are you well?” he asked, leaning forward as much as he dared.  

He was aware that, broad-shouldered as he was, he could seem intimidating when he didn’t mean to be.  It had happened before with Saguru, particularly when he was first settling into the house in Japan.  He’d startled at Tsuyoshi standing too close at him a few times before he’d realized what was happening.

“I--there was a small incident,” Saguru said.  “My arm...there’s a gauze pad.  Nothing else.”

Kaito cast him a glance.

The first hint of animation came into Saguru’s expression, in the form of offense.  “You should talk!”

“Thank you for permission,” Kaito said smugly.  He turned to Tsuyoshi.  “He hasn’t been eating enough, or sleeping.”

Tsuyoshi sighed.  It wasn’t shocking, but it was dismaying nonetheless.  Saguru had shown such tendencies since he’d come to live with them, but they’d had fair amounts of success in curtailing them. Saguru would generally eat when offered food and sleep when reminded to, he just had a tendency not to do those things reliably when left to his own devices.

But of course he had been, for weeks.

Tsuyoshi swore to himself.

“Thank you, Kuroba _-kun_ ,” Tsuyoshi said. He turned his attention back to Saguru.  “Baaya told me you didn’t intend to come here.”

He laid down the statement neutrally, no note of question or accusation.  The situation already felt as though it was balanced on the edge of a knife; there was no need to make things worse.

Saguru regarded him, wide-eyed, not speaking for a stretch before he finally dropped his gaze and answered.  “She--that’s correct.  I never planned to come back.  There were misunderstandings, and then I was already gone, and I thought coming back would just cause more trouble, but I’ve been informed that my conclusions related to this matter were not correct.”

“Maybe you’d like a little reassurance on that?” Kaito asked quietly.

Saguru’s eyes immediately turned to him, intent and more than a bit confused.

“I seem to remember a lot of worrying about police gossip,” Kaito said.

“That isn’t anything--” Saguru broke off.  “That’s wasn’t my main reason, by any means.”

“What, were you worried about my men talking about the facts of the case?” Tsuyoshi asked.  “Because I’m sorry to report that you’re old news.  The young women in Traffic attempted to arrest someone from the German consulate for parking illegally last week.”

“And once people know I’m here again?” Saguru asked. “I think I’ve rather gone past embarrassing the family, at this point.”

Tsuyoshi was aware, at some level, that he should be moderating his tone a bit, to avoid startling Saguru, but his emotions got the better of him.  “You’re alive to embarrass it, and I really couldn’t care about the rest,” he said firmly.  “If any relatives complain, we’ll deal with the matter, of course, but any of them worth staying in contact with should feel the same way.”

Heaven help him, Saguru looked like he could be knocked over with a light touch. Next to him, Kaito was beaming.

“I--I didn’t think--” Saguru managed quietly, before lapsing into silence.

“No you didn’t,” Kaito said cheerily.  “Fortunately, the superintendent-general makes better decisions than you.”

Saguru looked up, raising an eyebrow at Kaito in an expression that Tsuyoshi couldn’t quite decipher, but looked vaguely mocking.

Tsuyoshi, for his part, took a breath.   _If he’s concerned about gossip, rather than anything else, does that mean…._

“There was some concern, at the time you left, that it might have been under duress,” Tsuyoshi began. Seeing his son immediately stiffen, he backpedaled quickly.  “I am not asking for an explanation, or details.  I only wish to know if you are in danger.”

There was a sudden and intense exchange of glances between Saguru and Kaito, far too fast for Tsuyoshi to read but clearly loaded with meaning.  At the end of it, both boys slumped just slightly, then straightened, almost mirroring one another.  

“I am not,” Saguru said, speaking as formally as he might to a reporter or a police officer from another jurisdiction.  “Nor was I when I left.  At some points in my absence, I involved myself in criminal investigations; that is how my arm was injured.  But I am not under threat.”

He swallowed, then continued.  “I...there are matters, related to why I left, that I am sure you would like to have explained.  I--I can’t.”  He ducked his head, clearly waiting for some sort of reprimand.

Tsuyoshi weighed that statement, and the circumstances, and decided.  “‘I’d like to know, so I could know how to prevent you from leaving again.  But you don’t have to tell me.”

“Are you certain?” Saguru pressed.

“I am,” Tsuyoshi replied.

“Then--I will do my best, to tell you, someday,” Saguru said.  “But for now…”

“It’s been a really long week,” Kaito said, speaking up as Saguru trailed off.  There was a hint of nervousness to his tone and posture, but his expression was resolute.  “I don’t know what it’s been like for him the whole time, but I know what the last few days were like.  We had transportation issues and slept on someone’s floor--well, he did, he made me take the futon--”

“Your back is injured!” Saguru interjected.

“ _Whatever_ ,” Kaito dismissed.  “Look, things have been hard and he’s doing his best, so just, you know, don’t--I don’t know, let him off the hook a little I guess?  I haven’t slept well in a few days, I probably don’t make a lot of sense.”

Tsuyoshi smiled warmly at the teenage boy attempting to take up the role of Saguru’s protector after Scotland Yard and the Tokyo MPD and even Tsuyoshi himself had all failed to adequately take care of him.

“No, I’d say you make a good deal of sense,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Trauma, poor coping mechanisms, distorted thought processes related to trauma, poor self-care related to eating and sleeping (the former to an extent that could definitely be considered disordered eating), weight loss related to unhealthy eating habits, lots of adult fear re: children being hurt/missing/dead, brief mentions of the mistreatment of children, non-POV characters generally being in bad mental places, discussion of past injury.
> 
> Some of you have noticed that this story is winding down. We are definitely in the final arc, but I’m planning on resolving the emotional arcs I started, to what extent they can be resolved, so the story is not magically over now that we have put the Saguru back where he belongs. This story’s still got a few more chapters in it so please be patient with me!
> 
> (I swear review replies are coming!)


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween. I’m sorry this is so very, very late. I got really bad migraines two weekends running, which doesn’t go well when weekends are your main writing time. Also, I’m writing some of the bits of this story I personally find trickier at this point in time.
> 
> Given current expectations, and especially given my expectation regarding the next few weeks, I’m going to go ahead and say to expect three weeks between this update and the next. Please bear with me, guys!
> 
> My beta’s only seen half of this, and frankly, it’s not the half I’m worried about. Please pardon mistakes in the second half and if I need to edit later, please forgive that too.

In the end, Tsuyoshi had coaxed his son into going to visit Watson, because it was clear that the very act of speaking with Tsuyoshi was stressful for him at the moment.  Honestly, being in the house seemed to be stressful for him.  

It was like every bit of progress he’d made with Hakuba since the day they’d first met had vanished.  Saguru was thin and sickly-looking, flinching and pointedly avoiding his gaze and carrying himself as though he expected to be attacked.  It hurt to see his son like this.  

But he’d always seemed more at ease around Watson.  Never incautious; he’d always respected the fact that his chosen pet was a bird of prey that could easily injure or even maim a human under certain circumstances.  But Saguru never seemed ill at ease around her, just quietly, carefully respectful, as if dealing with a particularly delicate piece of art, or speaking with a very high ranking superior.

It was the same now.  They’d gone out back, to the mew built out on the grounds for Watson back when they’d first gotten her, though only Saguru had ventured inside.  He was murmuring to Watson now, in a mix of English and Japanese, with what Tsuyoshi thought might be French mixed in as well.  Watson herself likely wasn’t particularly concerned with the noise her master was making, but he’d also brought her food, and he was stroking her head as he spoke, so she seemed content enough.

“He really is good with her,” Kaito said.  He’d followed them out without really being invited, but Saguru hadn’t seemed to mind, and so Tsuyoshi hadn’t commented.  “Though I guess I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

“Oh?” Tsuyoshi remarked, glancing at him.

“Well, he’s a perfectionist about everything else, so why would the bird be an exception?” Kaito asked, grinning back, smile wide and bright and just a bit off.

“I suppose she wouldn’t be,” Tsuyoshi said, studying him.

This was, after all, his son’s prime suspect for the Kaitou KID.  Tsuyoshi himself...well, he was loathe to doubt his son, but at the same time, his theory stretched credibility.  He rather thought Saguru was correct to think that this KID was a different person than the first, but to say that it was a boy of Saguru’s age...it was ridiculous.  KID’s skills as a magician surpassed most in the profession, even if they were being misused; a teenager simply wasn’t old enough to have that level of skill.  Never mind the fact that Saguru had explained to him the presence of snipers on some of the heists, and KID’s ability to _dodge_ them.  The man’s abilities were beyond those of a high school student, and that was all there was to the situation.

At most, Kaito was connected somehow--an assistant, a relative, perhaps even the new KID’s intended successor.  But Tsuyoshi really couldn’t believe that KID was actually a teenager.

Kaito’s smile turned a little crooked.  “He...might be a little worse about that, for the next few weeks.”

Tsuyoshi raised an eyebrow and waited.

“He, uh, he thinks he messed up,” Kaito said.  “And, I mean...well, it’s not like him leaving was good, but that’s not…”  Kaito ran a hand through his hair, and lowered his voice slightly.  “Look, no one made him leave, but he didn’t exactly make that decision with his head on straight, so it’s not the kind of thing that’s worth holding against him.”

And here was another attempt at shielding his son from him.  He really was beginning to wonder about that behavior.  Was it simple protectiveness, or was there some reason that Kaito was so easily wary?

“I certainly don’t plan to,” Tsuyoshi said.

“Good,” Kaito said, with a little nod.  His gaze strayed back to Saguru, whose attention was still absorbed by Watson.

“We can take care of him from here, you know,” Tsuyoshi said.

Kaito flinched, just slightly, though his expression didn’t shift.  “Am I that obvious?”

“I can understand not wanting to let him out of your sight,” Tsuyoshi said gently.

“Yeah,” Kaito said quietly.

“But I think we owe you enough by now,” Tsuyoshi said.  “I still have no idea how you boys got to London, but given that you ended up back here with Saguru a few days after Hashimoto _-san_ texted me, I’m guessing that the matter of finding my son was a bit more complex than you’ve let on.”

Kaito flushed.  “It wasn’t that big a deal--and if you could keep the ‘London’ part to yourself, would you mind doing it?  It could cause trouble for the others if it got out that we were that far away.”

“I don’t like the idea of helping children lie to their guardians,” Tsuyoshi said.  “I’m aware that Conan _-kun_ didn’t tell the Mouris where he went.”

“His parents are okay with him doing things like this,” Kaito said.  “They knew about it.”

“I can’t say I approve of that sort of attitude,” Tsuyoshi replied.

Kaito shrugged.

“Though, speaking of parents, will your mother be missing you?” Tsuyoshi asked.

Kaito’s next shrug was even less enthusiastic.  “She texted me this morning, and I texted back; she knows I’m fine.”

“She knows more about his wellbeing than usual,” Saguru amended, startling them both with his approach.  He smiled at Tsuyoshi.  “Thank you, for taking care of Watson, in my absence, and for the chance to visit with her.  It was good, to see her.”

“Good,” Tsuyoshi said.  “Would you prefer to stay outside for a bit longer, or are you ready to return inside?”

Saguru actually smiled, just slightly.  “I believe I will be setting myself up for a scolding by Kuroba _-san_ if I don’t go inside and ask Baaya for something to eat.  We’ve not had anything since breakfast.”

“Is that my cue to head home?” Kaito asked.

“I believe it is my saying that I should be all right without you hovering like one of your doves,” Saguru said.  “But you do have the option of stopping at a restaurant or eating at the Nakamori house.”

Kaito shook his head. “No to the second option.  If I eat there, either I have to lie like a rug or you get a bunch of visitors later tonight.” He grinned, though it was a little too broad for the situation.  “I might just need to face the music.”

“Are you going to be in trouble with your mother for going to look for Saguru?” Tsuyoshi asked, alarmed.

“Nah, she gave me permission for that,” Kaito said.  “But...we fought, a while ago.  Actually, we haven’t really talked about anything _except_ me going to look for Hakuba _-san_ since then.  If I go home and try to eat in the kitchen, she’ll want to actually talk, and it’ll be a pain.”

“You said I’ve had a long few days, but they haven’t exactly been short and simple for you, either,” Saguru said.

“No, I guess not,” Kaito said. “It’s probably mostly that I don’t want to deal with Mom’s mind games after everything else.  But I have to go home sometime, and she owns the house, so I can’t make her leave until she decides for herself to go to Vegas for six months.”

Tsuyoshi had at no point in his interactions with Chikage or Kaito until now gotten the feeling that anything was wrong in their household, but it was becoming very clear that something in fact was.  It was tempting to invite Kaito to stay for dinner, but he needed to focus on Saguru right now.  Still, there was something he could do, at least.

“You are welcome to visit again, particularly if you have reason not to want to be at your house,” Tsuyoshi said.

Kaito stared up at him wide-eyed.  “I--oh, geez, it’s not _that_ bad, I just--”

“Of _course_ it isn’t,” Saguru said, tone cutting.

“It’s _not_ , she’s not--she’s _here_ , isn’t she?” Kaito said.  “She’s trying.  It’s better than she’s been.  But...yeah, I’d like to come here again.”

“Then, please feel welcome,” Tsuyoshi said.  “You missed a fair amount of school assisting those detectives in searching for Saguru.  For a high school student, that isn’t something done lightly.”

“There are more important things,” Kaito said quietly.

“So there are,” Tsuyoshi replied.   _And I am more grateful than I can express that you judged my son’s wellbeing to be one of them._

He didn’t know, precisely, what role Kaito had played in bringing Saguru back.  The boy was hardly a detective, and a magician’s skills weren’t likely to be of use in a missing persons case.  But even if the only help he had offered was personal familiarity with Saguru and determination to find him, it had been enough, and that was ultimately what mattered.

“Be careful, on your way home,” Saguru said.

“You too,” Kaito replied.

Saguru pulled a face at that, and Tsuyoshi couldn’t quite blame him.  That had been a bit _too_ direct, in some ways.

Kaito just smiled back, the expression softer than most of the grins he’d offered up through the visit.  “I’ll check in later, okay?”

“Thank you,” Saguru said.

And with that, the boy headed for the house, presumably with the goal of retrieving his belongings before leaving.  Tsuyoshi hesitated a while before gesturing to his son to follow.

Saguru didn’t flinch at the gesture.  His stillness was so absolute as to be deliberate.

In a less delicate situation, Tsuyoshi might have rubbed his eyes, or given some other external sign of his exhaustion.  As things were, he let it pass without comment and lead the way across the grounds back to the house, hoping his wife would return home soon.  He dearly needed backup.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

In the end, Kaito didn’t go home, or to a cafe.  He was too nervous and unsettled to really want to eat, for all that he was insisting that Hakuba should.  Hakuba had lost enough weight over the past weeks for it to be easily visible; he needed to start gaining it back.  Kaito wasn’t in a situation like that, so it didn’t matter if he skipped lunch.  He figured he’d make it home for a late supper, maybe.  

He’d ended up on top of the Clocktower, the one he’d always think of as his and Aoko’s.  It was probably a stupid thing to do in the middle of the day in civilian clothes, but at the same time, people didn’t look _up_ and there was always his reputation as a prankster to fall back on. No one who knew him from school would be surprised that he could do this, really.

...On reflection, that was probably an indication that he should tone down the classroom stunts.

High places helped him think.  There was something about the quiet and the breeze.  Also, the solitude ensured by difficult-to-reach high places just couldn’t be beat.  The Clocktower was even better, because it was a place that was soaked in his own personal history, and that was what he needed right now.

Not far from here, he’d first met Aoko.  He’d been in the guts of this building for his first encounter with Shinichi, too.  And this had been the first time that he’d used KID for himself, rather than to help a stranger or for chasing after Pandora.  Saving the Clocktower had nothing to do with his father’s mission or altruism; it had been about wanting to preserve his own memories with Aoko.  This wasn’t the place he’d become KID, by any means, but it was definitely a place where he’d taken a major step toward making the role his own.

Inspector Nakamori was still looking for one single KID, but really, Kaito was fourth in line.  His dad, Jii and Hakuba had all worn the monocle before he ever put it on.  There was something almost comforting about that thought.  Like...it was less of a direct inheritance, a burden passed directly from father to son, and more of a legacy that he was only the most recent to take up.

It felt like all the weight wasn’t on him anymore.  Even if, realistically, Hakuba was too much of a mess about everything in general and about his time as KID specifically to actually go back to being KID, he was still there.  He had the abilities, even if he wasn’t likely to start using them again except under extreme duress.  If Kaito needed, _really_ needed to stop--if he got injured badly or died or managed to have a breakdown more massive than Saguru’s--there was someone else who could carry on.

_It’s not all on me anymore_ , Kaito thought, and felt his throat get tight.

It wasn’t, though...and there was also the matter of the thing he’d told Hakuba, back in that bar in London.  That Pandora was just a thing, and Hakuba was a person, and so Hakuba was more important.  Hakuba being a version of Kaito, and Kaito also being a person besides, this logically translated to Kaito being more important than Pandora as well.  Which was…

It was…

Kaito was still having trouble processing it.  

_Turns out that once you orient your life around a goal, it’s kinda hard to backtrack on it_ , he thought, wry.

But at least he could think it.  He thought just being able to consider the idea was progress...kind of.  Possibly.

He really hoped Hakuba got to that point.  He really hoped Hakuba was okay.  The superintendent general seemed like a great guy, but Kaito worried.  And couldn’t stop, even now that Hakuba was home safe, because the guy had the same escape-artist training as Kaito and that meant that keeping him anywhere he didn’t want to be was pretty much impossible.

Hakuba was in good hands. He had to keep telling himself that.

More importantly, he had to keep telling himself that bugging Hakuba’s house would only freak the guy out and possibly scare him into running, and thus would be unproductive.

_And on top of all of this, I have to ask Mom why the h*** she talked to Vermouth_ , he thought, exhausted.

He still didn’t want to talk to her.  Some of it was just that he tended to avoid emotional confrontations.  But the other part…

He knew why she’d done it, to some extent, and he didn’t want to.  

It wasn’t like he was good at emotions, either.  Sometimes, rather than actually saying anything meaningful, the best he could do was _do_ something, and hope his feelings came across.  The the special effects display on Aoko’s birthday was a good example of that.

So he kind of recognized what his mom was doing.  She didn’t know how to apologize with words, so instead she’d made a grand gesture.  He saw it, and he appreciated what she was trying to do.  It was good, that she cared enough to do it.

But this wasn’t just one incident that she was apologizing for, and he wasn’t sure if she realized that.   For that matter, he wasn’t sure if she got how horrible it was for her to endanger her life to protect him by way of apology.  Especially when some of what he was upset about was her not being around.

_I’m barely dealing with Dad’s death, even after all this time, can’t she see that?_ he wondered.   _Why does she think that I’ll be even a little okay if she gets herself killed?_

Just the thought that Vermouth had seen his mom’s face, that she might have done something to draw the woman’s attention, when Kaito knew full well that the woman might have been involved in his father’s death--

He wanted to either start screaming or dig a hole and pull all the dirt in after him.

_Could she just once not make everything more complicated?_

He didn’t forgive her.  Not yet, not for everything.  He appreciated what she’d done, even if he wished she hadn’t done it, and he was really glad she was trying more, but…

It didn’t make the other stuff okay.  He wasn’t sure what would.  A direct apology might help, but...he was already in the habit of not trusting what she said at face value. And he wasn’t sure how to start trusting her.

It wouldn’t be what she was expecting.  And it wasn’t fair to her, after all the work she’d put in, especially since she really had helped find Hakuba.  But he didn’t think this was okay to back down on.

He didn’t want things to stay uneasy between them, but it wasn’t like he knew any more than she did about how to fix this.

He could start by going home, though, maybe.  They could start by talking.

Maybe he’d even show her something other than Poker Face once or twice, just as an example of how that was supposed to work.

_Happy Halloween. I’m sorry this is so very, very late.  I got really bad migraines two weekends running, which doesn’t go well when weekends are your main writing time.  Also, I’m writing some of the bits of this story I personally find trickier at this point in time._

_Given current expectations, and especially given my expectation regarding the next few weeks, I’m going to go ahead and say to expect three weeks between this update and the next. Please bear with me, guys!_

_My beta’s only seen half of this, and frankly, it’s not the half I’m worried about.  Please pardon mistakes in the second half and if I need to edit later, please forgive that too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Past trauma, poor coping mechanisms, dysfunctional eating habits, and dysfunctional families for the whole chapter, plus more specific discussion of trust issues and mourning in the second half.
> 
> Watson’s mew conforms to American and British standards for such things, since I couldn’t find the Japanese standards in English (and I can’t read enough kanji for that). Please note that whether Gosho meant it or not, Hakuba having a hawk is a status symbol, because you need a lot of money to house and care for one. (Insert joke about my undergraduate dorm probably costing less here)
> 
> Thank you for your patience with me, everyone.


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long gap between updates. Stuff kept happening, mostly a seasonal cold and those ongoing nonserious health issues that keep knocking around the update schedule. Someday I’ll get on top of things, heh.
> 
> Thank you to miladyRanger for betaing, and see the end note for warnings, as always!

It was approaching dinnertime when Kaito walked through the door, and Chikage had to restrain herself from effusive greetings or shows of worry.  He wouldn’t believe she was being genuine, and ultimately that would only strain things between them further.

She tried on a gentle smile instead, and asked, “Were you able to see him home safely?”

Kaito slipped off his shoes carefully and propped his luggage against the wall by the door.  He was moving slowly, and the shadows under his eyes were clear evidence of jet lag.  “Yeah, I was,” he said softly.

“Have you eaten yet?” Chikage asked.  “I can make something…”

“Don’t worry about it, if there’s leftovers or something I can heat them up,” Kaito said.  “I, um, didn’t have time to eat lunch either, so I don’t really want to wait for the rice cooker or anything like that.”

Chikage frowned at him, and he glared right back.  

“We took the train into Tokyo around lunchtime, and Saguru was too jumpy to go to a restaurant, never mind what would have happened if someone recognized him,” Kaito said.  

“Which station did you go into, that it took that long to get him to his house?” Chikage asked.

“Um, one of the ones in Beika?” Kaito said with a shrug.  “We stopped someplace to dye his hair.  He couldn’t keep borrowing one of my wigs forever.” He paused, then gestured toward his own hair.  “He cut his hair really short, and stopped dying it, so he...didn’t really look like himself.”

“That’s all the disguise work he was doing?”

“No, that was his base appearance,” Kaito said.  “When I finally found him, he was crossdressing.”

Chikage made a hum of approval.  “Good to know he’s not completely out of practice,” she said.  

“Oh, believe me, he’s not,” Kaito said.  “He also impersonated a Russian police chief and made up a convincing female Japanese-American temp worker, and that’s just what we know about.” He looked even more tired, if it was possible. “I am _so_ glad we’re done chasing after him.”

“Almost makes a person sympathetic toward Inspector Nakamori,” Chikage said with a small grin.  “Come to the kitchen.  At least let me heat something up.”

“Yeah, okay,” Kaito said, following her.

Chikage rummaged through the fridge and found some prepackaged vegetable dumplings, then arranged them on a plate and put them in the microwave.  Kaito walked into the kitchen behind her and started rummaging through the drawers for chopsticks.

For a few minutes, the only sounds were the clink of tableware and the steady hum of the microwave.

The microwave beeped, and Chikage set the plate in front of Kaito.  

He glanced up at her.  “Will you have anything?”

“I’m going to wait and have a proper meal,” she said.  “But I’ll keep you company while I’m cooking.  How’s that?”

He gave her a half smile, which was about what she’d expected of him.

He ate in silence for a few seconds as she started up the rice cooker.  Then, he said, very quietly, “I did appreciate what you did, by talking to...to dad’s former student.”

She turned to face him.  He hadn’t looked up from his plate.

“But...please don’t do it again,” he continued.  “Please don’t make yourself a target on my behalf.  I don’t know that much about what you’re doing as--as Corbeau.  You don’t actually have to tell me, not if you don’t want to.  But if you attract her attention because of me--if you die because of me--” He broke off, biting his lip.  “Please tell me you thought about it.  About what that would do to me.”

Chikage drew herself up. “Please, Kaito, you know I’m too good--”

“Dad wasn’t,” Kaito interrupted, voice hard.  “Dad wasn’t, and if he wasn’t, no one is.”

That struck true, more so than Chikage ever wanted to admit aloud. “Kaito, you’ve got to stop acting like your father was some sort of god among phantom thieves,” she said sharply.  “It’s not healthy.”

“Oh, and running off to Vegas after he died was?” Kaito responded. He took a breath.  “No, no, this isn’t--I don’t want to fight with you, _d*mnit_ , but--you’re still doing it.”

“Doing what?” Chikage asked, keenly interested.  If there was something she could stop doing to make all of this right again, she was eager to make a start as soon as possible.

Kaito made a wordless growl of frustration, and then very deliberately shoved a dumpling into his mouth. After he finished chewing, he said, “You’re still acting like everything's okay.  It’s not.  You know it’s not.”

“Then tell me how to make it better!” Chikage bit out, all thoughts of preparing dinner forgotten.  “I know I’ve made mistakes, but I don’t know how you’re expecting me to fix them!”

“I wanted you to be here like five years ago, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned from this whole mess it’s that time travel kinda sucks, so I don’t really know _what_ I want now,” Kaito said, wilting.

Chikage was confused.  “What happened five years ago?”

“I was lonely, and I wanted my mom to be around,” Kaito said, looking her in the eye.

“Oh.”

Kaito leaned against the table and rubbed his eyes, obviously tired.  “It’s not--there’s not something specific you can say or do to just, I don’t know, fix everything.  That’s not gonna work.”

Chikage wanted to tell him, _I don’t know how to do this_ , but she was slowly realizing that she couldn’t say that to him, no matter how true it was.  She’d put too much trust in his maturity already, and in doing so she’d piled burdens he wasn’t ready to bear on his shoulders.

She took a mental step back.   _Stop pushing him. Stop placing the responsibility on his shoulders. I want to be close to him again, but I need to put his feelings first.  That’s my responsibility as a parent.  When did I forget that?_

Chikage squared her shoulders.  “Okay.  I know I haven’t been there for you in the ways that you wanted me to be, and...well,” she faltered, then gathered herself, “there’s a lot I’ve screwed up at this point.  I want to do better from now on, and I shouldn’t have asked you to give me instructions on how to manage that.”

Kaito was staring now.  The clear surprise on his face stung.

“I would like to know if there are things that you’d like me to do,” she continued.  “I pushed my way into your life after being absent for a long time, and though it wasn’t deliberate, I made a bit of a mess of things.”

“That wasn’t--you didn’t know,” Kaito said. “You were trying to look out for me. I appreciated that part. It was the other stuff that…”

“That you’re still upset about,” Chikage filled in.

“Yeah,” Kaito said. “I want to have a nice civilized conversation with you.  Which means we aren’t talking about Corbeau, not tonight.  Okay?”

Chikage nodded.

“When I told you to go back to Las Vegas, I was angry,” Kaito said.  “But I wasn’t kidding.  Or wrong.  I’m used to living alone now.  I need some time to get my bearings.  To figure out how we should do this.  We don’t fit like this, in the same house, not anymore.  You’re bored as heck here in Japan and I’m too used to having the whole house to myself.”

“Kaito…” Chikage started.

“It’s not because I’m angry, really,” Kaito said.  “I just...maybe a few years ago, fixing this would’ve looked like you moving back to Japan.  But I don’t think it does anymore, you know?”

Chikage sighed.  “Are you sure?”

“It’s easier for you in Vegas, too, isn’t it?” Kaito offered. “Maybe...figuring things out on your end would be easier there, too.”

Chikage had to concede the point, so she nodded.  “I want to talk more often,” she added.  “And not just...I don’t just want to tell you stories.  You have to tell me how you’re doing.  How you’re _actually_ doing.”

“Then you can’t use it against me,” Kaito countered.

“I--”

“We play mind games with each other sometimes,” Kaito said. “It’s normal for us.  But if you want me to confide in you, that part has to be off limits.”

“Right,” Chikage said, too tired to shove away the feelings trying to clog up her throat. _He really doesn’t trust me_.

Kaito smiled at her, but she could see the Poker Face in it.  “We can fix this.  It’s not...we haven’t screwed everything up, not yet.”

“You’re seventeen, what would you know?” Chikage asked. _How long has it been since I’ve treated him like a kid and_ meant _it?_

The answering smile was more real. “I’m Kaitou Kid; I know everything.”

“Keep on telling yourself that,” Chikage said.  “And eat your food before it gets cold.”

Kaito stiffened--it seemed Chikage had crossed a line. Then, he relaxed again, and started eating.  Chikage wasn’t sure what she’d done wrong. Was this just teenage rebellion at orders from parents, or did he not want to hear _her_ ordering him around?

She still didn’t understand her son.  Maybe that was the biggest problem.

“It’s good,” Kaito said tentatively.  “That you’re trying like this.  I mean, I appreciate it. A lot.”

“I should have tried more, and sooner,” Chikage replied, feeling the truth of it settle in her gut like a weight.

“But you _are_ trying now,” Kaito said.  “It doesn’t fix everything.  But it does mean something.”

He smiled up at her, without any KID in his expression at all.  That was a rare sight, now, wasn’t it?  Chikage took it for the gift it was likely meant to be and smiled back.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

When Shiyomi arrived at the house, Tsuyoshi was at the gate to meet her.

“What’s happened?” she asked immediately.  He could see her scanning the ground for clues, just as he had.  Perhaps she had never been a police officer, but she’d been an EMT for a few years in her youth.  The clues she sought were different, but no less vital.  

“Saguru’s here,” he said softly, holding up hands to quell her reaction.  “He’s inside.  He’s startling as easily as when I first met him.”

“Where _was_ he?” Shiyomi demanded, eyes wide and wet, but not yet welling over.

“London, I think,” Tsuyoshi said. “Kuroba _-kun_ was the one to bring him here.”

“So those boys _did_ find him, after all,” Shiyomi said, a wan smile on her lips.  “I suppose we’ll have to thank them.”

Tsuyoshi exhaled. “Kuroba _-kun_ asked me not to spread the fact that he’d been in London around,” he said.  “He apparently had permission from his mother to make the trip, but I don’t think the others did. We might create more problems than we solve if we try to thank them.”

Shiyomi made a hum of discontent. “So, he did leave of his own volition?”

“It rather seems that he wouldn’t be back at all if not for some persistent meddling on Kuroba _-kun_ ’s part,” he said. “He’s been vague.  And withdrawn. Please be ready for it.”

She nodded acknowledgement. “Is Baaya…”

“She’s quite frustrated,” Tsuyoshi admitted.  “I believe she’d hoped he would come back willingly.  When he did not…”

Shiyomi nodded.

“He’ll wonder what’s keeping us,” Tsuyoshi said, ushering her in.

They found Saguru and Baaya in the dining room.  Baaya was having tea while watching Saguru pick at his late lunch, a bowl of _oyakodon_ that she’d set out for him about an hour ago.  About half of it was eaten.  Tsuyoshi imagined it might take some work to get him used to full meals once again.

Saguru looked up, startled and instantly wary.  “Mother.”

“Saguru,” Shiyomi replied.  “Welcome home.”

“It’s good to be home,” Saguru said, relaxing just slightly at the traditional exchange.  He paused, staring at his food for a few seconds, then added, “I’m sorry to have worried you.”

Shiyomi shook her head. “Do you mind if we join you and Baaya?”

Saguru shook his head, and Shiyomi sat down across from him, Tsuyoshi taking a seat beside him.

Shiyomi began telling stories about her work at the hospital over the previous weeks.  Tsuyoshi joined in with accounts from the police station.  Soon, even Baaya was contributing anecdotes from the house staff and the contractors she dealt with to keep the mansion running.

Saguru grew less tense as the conversation continued, and, distracted by listening, he actually ate most of the food in front of him.  When he finished the bowl, Tsuyoshi knew it was time for the more difficult topics.

He glanced at his wife, then at Baaya, letting them know he was about to change the tone of the conversation.  He was certain Saguru wouldn’t miss the nonverbal communication; if anything, it was for the better if his son knew to steel himself a bit.

“I’m still not planning to ask where you were, or about your specific reasons for leaving, but there’s a conversation we need to have,” Tsuyoshi said.

Saguru looked very nearly ready to make a run for it.

“Please, hear me out,” Tsuyoshi said.  “I don’t know how to tell you that you aren’t in danger and have you believe it, but I promise you, you are safe here.”

The look he received in reply was less than convinced, to say the least.

“You’ve apologized for leaving,” Tsuyoshi said.  “Now let me apologize.  You were in distress, and we did not do enough to address it.”

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to,” Saguru said, seeming more confused than anything.

“You’ve been nervous since you returned,” Tsuyoshi said.  “Really, you’ve been nervous to some degree from the time I invited you into our home, and while we offered you safety, we did no more than that.”

“Oh no,” Saguru all but groaned.  “This is about the therapist again, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” Tsuyoshi said, standing his ground.  “I think you would benefit.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Saguru said.  “I’ve told you, I don’t like talking about things from before I went to London.”

“Don’t talk about that, then,” Tsuyoshi said.  “A therapist can help you learn how to deal with whatever it is that makes you startle every time someone approaches you from behind.  You can talk with them about ways of calming yourself after nightmares without discussing the nature of the nightmares.  At least consider it.  Please.”

Saguru’s jaw tightened.

“Saguru…” Shiyomi started, only to trail off with a sigh.

“We’ll return to the topic,” Tsuyoshi said firmly.  

“Have you had a chance to shower, or change?” Shiyomi asked.

“No.  I’m not even sure precisely who I borrowed these jeans from.”

“Well, your clothes are still in your drawers upstairs,” Baaya said.  “Though I really should air out your room before you use it.”

“Why don’t you go shower,” Shiyomi suggested.  “Baaya will get your room ready and then perhaps start on dinner.”

“Already?” Saguru asked, surprised.

“You’ll be eating proper meals now that you’re home, Saguru,” Shiyomi said, a hint of warning in her tone.

Saguru ducked his head and hurried to the shower.

Tsuyoshi glanced at her. “And what will we be doing, dear?”

“Making our excuses at work, and trying to figure out how to keep the number of visitors down to an amount that won’t overwhelm him once you’ve reported to the station that he’s been found,” Shiyomi said.  “Your men are gossips.”

“So they are,” Tsuyoshi admitted.  “I suppose you have a plan?”

“Several,” Shiyomi said, smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for trauma and paranoia throughout, dysfunctional family, specifically emotional neglect and reference to the entire Corbeau mess in the first part, and dysfunctional eating habits, and psychological issues (specifically PTSD) in the second half.
> 
> I am forever behind on review replies but I will someday catch up!


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update! Sorry for the continued lateness; winter colds on top of my normal health issues are not super awesome. 
> 
> Thanks again to miladyRanger for betaing; she’s only seen the first half of this chapter though, so she can’t be blamed for issues in the latter half. 
> 
> Warnings and additional notes at the end!

Nakamori Ginzou stretched as he got out of the car, and glanced unhappily out at the lit-up Tokyo skyline.  It was long after dark, because like nearly every senior officer, he’d worked overtime today.  The superintendent-general’s unexpected leave, due to an unexplained family emergency, had happened at the worst possible time.  Or, rather, the one day that the superintendent-general was gone, the city’s normal collection of petty thefts with Division One’s odd freaky murder thrown in had suddenly multiplied into more than a dozen variously serious, complicated, or politically sensitive cases, all with paperwork to match and spread out across the divisions.  They were going to need to petition HR to reorder the main office’s coffee early this month, at this rate.  The sudden spate of disasters meant that anyone who didn’t have a reason to go home on time worked overtime, and that had included Ginzou, whose tendency to stay late for heists was well-known.

He might _want_ to be around more for Aoko, but he had to admit that he couldn’t exactly explain to HR that needed to go home early because he was starting to think he was giving his teenage daughter a complex.

He slipped off his shoes and left his briefcase at the door, then registered the fact that the house smelled like chicken stir-fry.  That meant Kaito was back from his trip and over for dinner--otherwise, Aoko would have grilled the salmon that they’d just gotten, instead of using up frozen leftover chicken from last week.

“Dad, you’re just in time!” Aoko exclaimed, looking up from the stove as he walked in and sat down at the table.  His place was set, and Kaito was pouring drinks.

“Thanks for making dinner, Aoko,” he said.  “And welcome back, Kaito _-kun_.”

“You’re welcome!” Aoko said cheerily, setting a steaming bowl of rice on the table.

“Thanks,” Kaito said.  “You okay with water?”

“Give me some of that sugary soda stuff you drink,” Ginzou said. “I’m gonna need to stay awake through dinner somehow, and if I drink any more coffee, I won’t have a stomach lining left.”

Kaito gave him a small half-smile.  “Can do,” he said, and got a bottle of liquid the exact yellow of the neon signs at his favorite bar out of the fridge.  Ginzou winced, and hoped it tasted better than it looked.

As the kids sat down, he asked, “How’s that relative you went to visit?”

“Oh, they’re doing better now,” Kaito said, leaning back a little in his chair.

“You practically slept through class though,” Aoko said, as she scooped stir-fry onto her plate.  “Are you sure everything is really okay?”

“It was just a long trip,” Kaito said. “I’m  not looking forward to the makeup work, though.”

“Aoko guesses not!” Aoko said.  “You missed two tests and an essay!”

“Ehhh, it was worth it,” Kaito said.

“Who’s this relative, that you had to go visit them so suddenly, anyhow?” Ginzou asked.

Kaito didn’t answer, and instead just started serving himself stir-fry.  After the silence had stretched just long enough to be awkward, he asked, “So, Mom said the Task Force is still officially off-duty.  Why’d you end up staying so late at the station?”

“Superintendent-general had a family emergency and we had a bunch of cases all at once,” Ginzou said gruffly, taking time to get his own portion of food.

“Ohh, Hakuba _-san’_ s dad!” Aoko exclaimed.  “Aoko hopes everything’s all right!  After--after everything with Hakuba _-san_ , Aoko hopes nothing else happened!”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Kaito said calmly.

A bit too calmly.  There was something too certain about his expression.  Along with those rumors, and his exhaustion, and the way Chikage had been acting last time he’d seen her…

“What do you know, Kaito _-kun_?”

Kaito laughed tiredly.  “I told them that as soon as I came over here, you two would figure it out,” he said.  “I’m surprised it didn’t happen at school, but I think I managed to avoid that by being unconscious for half of my classes.”

“What are you talking about?” Ginzou asked, well and truly confused now.

“I wasn’t visiting a relative,” Kaito said.  “I was tagging along with a couple of high school detectives.”

“To find Hakuba _-san_ ,” Aoko filled in.  Her face lit up.  “You found Hakuba _-san?_ ”

Kaito grinned widely.  “Yeah,” he said.  “Yeah, he’s back home safe.  We did it.”

Ginzou cursed because he wasn’t sure how else to respond, but he was sure his smile was as wide as the kid’s was.

“Oh that’s wonderful!” Aoko exclaimed, delighted.  “Oh, Aoko has to call--”

Kaito placed a hand on hers, face serious.  “No, you don’t.  You shouldn’t, yet.  He’s...not ready to talk to people, much.”

Aoko deflated, and Ginzou gave Kaito a look that he hoped conveyed, _You’d better have a good reason for taking the wind out of her sails like that_.

“Sorry,” Kaito said.  “It’s not...look, physically, he’s pretty much fine.  I mean, he probably needs to gain back some weight and sleep more, and he has a minor injury, but it’s not anything you need to be worried about long-term. But…” He swallowed, looking unsure.

“He always used to smile like you do, sometimes,” Aoko said, and Kaito inhaled sharply.  “Those weird little smiles that aren’t really smiles but they look like them if you’re silly enough to fall for it.  And he seemed so tired after he went on trips to Europe.  There was this one time that Aoko mentioned trying to become a detective and Aoko thinks it actually _scared_ him.”

For a second, Kaito looked genuinely upset, and then his expression blanked, like it always did when he was confronted with emotions he couldn’t handle.  Ginzou sometimes thought he should do something to address that, but in the end he always circled back around to asking, _Like what?_

“That’s...yeah,” Kaito said.  “That’s about it.  He’s really shaken up now.  I think leaving Japan made it harder for him to keep pretending he was okay.”

Ginzou, for his part, remembered a single glimpse of the pink scar tissue that formed a slash across Hakuba’s neck, and the unfamiliar tone and posture the teen had taken on when asked about it.

Aoko frowned.  “So he needs some time?”

“Yeah, at the very least,” Kaito said.  “He and his parents are talking about how to deal with everything.  That’s why his dad wasn’t at work.”

“People will notice eventually,” Ginzou cautioned.

“Yeah,” Kaito agreed.  “But please don’t be the one to tell them?  I know the whole Task Force is worried but at this point if they all show up it’ll just end up freaking him out and worrying them.”

“He’s really not okay, huh?” Ginzou asked.

Kaito deflated slightly.  “He’s really, really not.” He took a breath.  “I’m worried about him.”

“Are you okay?” Aoko asked.  

“Maybe?” Kaito ventured.  “I’m worried about Hakuba, and the other detectives who helped out, and stuff with Mom…”

“She said she was going to try to make things up to you,” Ginzou said. “You two aren’t still fighting, are you?”

“No, not..” Kaito said. He paused, sighed, and ran a hand through his hair  “It’s...complicated.  She said she’s going back to Vegas and I think that’s for the best.  But we are talking again, so that’s something.”

“You didn’t even tell me you were arguing,” Aoko said, looking upset.

Kaito looked sheepish.  “Sorry, a lot was going on.”

“That’s exactly when you need to talk to people about your problems!” Aoko huffed.

“You’re right,” Kaito said quietly, expression serious.  “I’m gonna try to be better about that.”

“So, the whole Task Force would overwhelm Hakuba, but what about the two of us?” Ginzou asked.

Kaito got that shifty look on his face that meant he was trying not to say _something_ aloud.  “I’ll talk to him about it, okay?  See how he feels.”

“You’d better!” Aoko said.  “It’s not fair that you already got to see him and we didn’t!”

“I already got to see him because I helped find him!” Kaito said.

Aoko made a dismissive noise, the dinner table dissolved into pointless bickering, and Ginzou gave up on further attempts to push the matter.  Either Kaito would intercede with Saguru on their behalf, or Ginzou would be forced to go over his head.  He knew how to get in contact with the Superintendent-General, after all.

In the end, it was a day later when Kaito finally gave them the okay to visit Hakuba.  The news had finally broken, and there were reporters outside of the house, so the woman who Hakuba called Baaya snuck the three of them into the house through one of the back entrances.  Hakuba was standing beside...whatever you called the little houses hawks lived in, safely out of view of television cameras but still outside to meet them.

The first thing Ginzou noticed was his hair.  He was used to using Hakuba’s wavy blond hair to pick him out of crowds of dark-haired police officers on heists when he hadn’t brought along his hawk or worn something outlandish. Nearly all of it was gone now, leaving behind maybe two centimeters of gold fluff that stuck straight up and made the angles of his face look harsher than they had before.

Well, that wasn’t all the hair.  Kaito wasn’t kidding about the lost weight.  Hakuba was wearing that light brown suit he liked to wear to heists, and it  didn’t fit right anymore.  It wasn’t as bad as it could be, but that suit had been tailored, and now it was noticeably loose at his neck and wrists.

He turned to face them and stiffened, instantly wary.  There was a world of difference between this kid and the cocky boy who’d all but forced his way onto the KID Task Force.  His eyes met Ginzou’s for a half a second, and Ginzou couldn’t even puzzle out everything that was going on in his expression, but none of it looked happy, or confident, or anything like the boy he knew.  

“Your guests are here,” Baaya said.

Hakuba made a hum of acknowledgement.  “Thank you for bringing them in through the back, Baaya.  You don’t have to stay out here with us if there are other things you need to do.”

“Are you certain?” she asked.

“I am,” Hakuba said.

Baaya nodded, and headed back to the house.

“You two talked things out, I guess,” Kaito observed.

“We did,” Hakuba said. “You and your mother?”

“We kind of did?” Kaito offered. “She’s going back to Vegas.”

Hakuba made a complicated face.  

“I asked her to,” Kaito said.

“Ah,” Hakuba said. “I may visit eventually, then.”

Kaito smirked.  It seemed there was some sort of joke there Ginzou wasn’t getting.

Ginzou was content to sit back, because he could see some of the tension easing out of Hakuba’s shoulders as he talked with Kaito.  But Aoko had apparently lost patience with being ignored.

“Hakuba _-san_ , Aoko really missed you!” she exclaimed.

Hakuba flinched.  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.  “I did not set out to worry you.  Either of you.” Again, his gaze only moved to Ginzou for a second, but he otherwise steadily avoided eye contact.  

That was starting to unsettle Ginzou.  Hakuba had always been a bit Western about eye contact, making more than was strictly polite for a Japanese person and often holding it too long as well.  Even when carefully abiding by Japanese custom, he was never this obvious about avoiding it.  Something was wrong.

“Aoko is just glad you’re home safe,” Aoko said firmly.  “Do you know when you’re coming back to school?”

Hakuba froze up. That was the best way to describe it.

“You’re probably still talking with your parents about that, huh?” Kaito asked.

“Ah, yes,” Hakuba said. The words sounded shaky.

_What the h***_ _happened to him?_ Ginzou thought, worried.   _This isn’t even a little like him._

“You had everyone on the Task Force pretty worried too,” Ginzou said. “H***, even KID wanted us looking for you.”

Hakuba looked confused at that.  “Did he tell you that?”

“What, the self-proclaimed Number One KID Fan helped find you and didn’t even show you that idiotic heist note?” Ginzou asked.  “Telling us to look for ‘lost cubs’...as if I needed more evidence that he’s full of crap…”

The first hint of life entered Saguru’s expression as he glanced at Kaito. “Lost cubs?” he repeated incredulously.

“You know, young Wolves of Europe!” Kaito said, almost defensively.  “It’s a perfectly good note.”

“It’s a stupid note and KID is also stupid,” Aoko put in.

Kaito looked offended.

Saguru let out a small huff of laughter.  “Well said, Aoko _-san_.”

_He’s still in there somewhere,_ Ginzou thought in relief.

“Is there anything Aoko can do to help out?” Aoko asked.  “Can Aoko bring food, or…”

The ease of the last few minutes vanished as Saguru rapidly shook his head.  “I assure you, Baaya has feeding me well in hand.  You really needn’t worry so much.”

Kaito sighed loudly, probably on purpose.  “People don’t actually worry less when you say that kind of stuff.”

“I really don’t see why you’re all so worried in the first place,” Hakuba grumbled.

He actually seemed to be serious, too, which Ginzou was having trouble wrapping his mind around.  

When he finally got his thoughts into something like coherent words, they came out as, “You were missing for weeks, no one had any idea where the h*** you were or whether you were even f***ing alive.  Why the h*** would you think we wouldn’t be d*** worried?”

Hakuba flinched again, and this time it was unmistakable. Before all of this, he’d been able to weather Ginzou’s tirades better than some of the Task Force veterans, not even flinching at the language or volume.  But here he was, going pale and taking a step back.

“You scared people,” Kaito said quietly. “A lot of people.  I know you didn’t mean to, but that’s why they want to see you.  They want to know that you really did come back.”

Hakuba had this look on his face, somewhere between completely flat and the edge of tears, and it was terrifying how much it reminded Ginzou of Kaito. That was what happened to Kaito’s face when he hit something he just could not handle.  On Kaito, it usually came out when Toichi came up unexpectedly.  Ginzou didn’t understand how people being worried was enough to get it on Hakuba’s face, but he didn’t like it one bit.

“You okay?” he asked, because he couldn’t figure out what else to do.

Both Kaito and Aoko looked at him like he was an idiot.  

“Hey, Hakuba _-san_ , Aoko is really glad that you did come back,” Aoko said, turning back to Hakuba. “So is her dad. He just says it with more swearing and yelling, because that’s what he’s like.  You know that.”

Hakuba swallowed visibly. “I do.”  He paused.  “And thank you.  I am...glad, as well.”

“Good,” Aoko said decisively.  She glanced toward Ginzou, who realized he was being called upon to back her up.

“She’s right,” Ginzou said.  “I’m glad to see you back home.  When you feel up to it, write the Task Force a letter or something so they don’t keep badgering me and your dad about being allowed to visit.”

“Have they really been?” Hakuba asked, seeming surprised.

“We argued for jurisdiction on your case, Hakuba _-kun_ ,” Ginzou said patiently.  “Most of the Task Force doesn’t actually specialize in Missing Persons but we argued that we were good enough at search grids to make up for it.”

Hakuba stared at him with wide eyes. “I thought--Inspector Yamato--”

“He pried that case out of our jurisdiction with a false alarm in his jurisdiction and his personal relationship to your father,” Ginzou said, offended.

“Your relationship to his father is how you got the case in the first place,” Kaito pointed out.

“I barely know the guy; why does everyone keep saying I have some kind of pull with the superintendent-general?” Ginzou asked, throwing his hands up.

Hakuba carefully held himself still at the motion.  He’d wanted to flinch and he’d stopped himself.  That was more than a little unsettling. What the _h***_ had him so spooked?

Kaito, meanwhile, snickered.  “Because he let his son work under your direct supervision?”

“Hakuba _-kun_ wanted to be on the Task Force; that’s proof that Hakuba _-kun_ wants to catch KID, not that his dad likes me!”

“If Father hadn’t liked you, he would have made other arrangements,” Hakuba said.  “At the very least, he wouldn’t have asked you directly to look after me.”

Ginzou was feeling distinctly outnumbered, so he dropped the matter.

The conversation went on like for a while--Hakuba carefully opening up for brief periods of time, only to shut down suddenly at any expression of concern or unexpected movement from Aoko or Ginzou. Kaito occasionally blundered into unsafe territory as well, but it was much less frequent, and he was better at putting Hakuba at ease. Also, the way he occasionally redirected the conversation made Ginzou more than a little suspicious.

They hadn’t been there 20 minutes when Baaya reemerged from the house.  “Saguru- _bocchama,_ it’s dinnertime.”

“Awww, but Aoko wanted to talk to you a little more,” Aoko said.

“I’m afraid questioning Baaya in regard to mealtimes is not particularly wise,” Hakuba said.  “It was good to see you. I will, at the very least, let Kaito know when a decision is reached regarding my return to school.”

“If you want, you can call our house, too,” Aoko said.  “Kaito knows the number.”

Saguru nodded.

Ginzou had been watching Hakuba’s reactions, and he knew that he wasn’t reacting well to the fact that people were worried about him, but he felt like he needed to say something anyway.  “You’ve got no idea how glad I am that you’re home safe, kid.”

Hakuba just ducked his head a bit further, and said nothing in response.  Ginzou wanted to hug him, no matter how long he’d spent being a stuck-up brat with crap theories about KID, because right now he looked like he was hurting.  But he also flinched basically every time someone moved suddenly, so probably that was a bad idea.

Aoko darted past Ginzou and grabbed one of Hakuba’s hands in both of hers.  Hakuba, predictably, froze up, but only for a second.  

“It was good to see you again,” Aoko said.  “Aoko is really, really glad you’re back.  We’ll see you again soon, right?”

Startled, Hakuba said, “Yes, of course,” and met her eyes for possibly the second time in the conversation.

Apparently satisfied, she dropped his hand and stepped back.   

Kaito smiled crookedly at him.  “Well, now she made you promise,” he said.

“So she did,” Hakuba said, sounding a bit rattled.

“Good,” Kaito said. “Now, go eat.”

Saguru nodded, looking embarrassed.

“Can you find your way back out?” Baaya asked, reminding them all of her presence.

“Aoko remembers!” Aoko volunteered.  “And Kaito does too, probably.”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” Kaito said. “You go keep an eye on him.”

Baaya smiled at him, then headed back to the house, with Hakuba following close behind.

Apparently dismissed, Ginzou, Kaito and Aoko headed for the back entrance. Ginzou waited until they were nearly there to turn to Kaito.  “All right, out with it.”

Kaito stared up at him, looking honestly confused.  “With what?”

“You know what happened to him when he was gone, don’t you?” Ginzou asked.  “You knew what to avoid talking to him about.”

Kaito sighed. “It’s a little more complicated than--”

“It’s really not,” Ginzou interrupted.  “If you know what happened, you need to tell me. So I can find whoever hurt him and arrest them.”

“Dad?” Aoko asked.

“You noticed it too, didn’t you?” Ginzou asked.  “How he was flinching and acting nervous?”

“Yeah, but he ran away on his own,” Aoko said. “He wasn’t kidnapped.  Kaito would’ve said if that wasn’t true!”

“I would have,” Kaito agreed.  “It wasn’t--what happened to Hakuba didn’t happen while he was gone.  It happened before he came to Japan, or got adopted.  Leaving just brought a lot of things back up for him, that’s all.  As for arresting people...I don’t think you could find those people to arrest, and I _really_ don’t think Hakuba would appreciate me giving people details of his life without his permission.”

“Yeah, I guess he wouldn’t,” Ginzou agreed.  “But you’re absolutely sure we couldn’t track them down?”

“Yeah,” Kaito said quietly.  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure. If finding them was a realistic thing you’d need to get in line.”

“Teenage detectives?” Ginzou asked.

“Definitely, among others,” Kaito said.

“He’s going to be okay, though,  right?” Aoko asked, looking distraught.

“I think so,” Kaito said.  “It might take him a while though.”

“Aoko can be patient,” Aoko said.  “It’s usually Kaito who’s bad at it.”

“I can be patient when there’s something worth waiting for,” Kaito said.

They continued out the entrance, and down the road.  It was starting to get dark, but the street lamps hadn’t quite turned on yet. This part of town was much quieter than the block where they lived, and it made the silence that fell feel a bit heavier.

“It was a good thing you did, helping to track him down,” Ginzou said at length.

“It was selfish,” Kaito replied. “I was as worried as everyone else.  I’m glad he’s home now, though.”

“Still a good thing to do,” Ginzou said.  “Proud of you, kid.”

Kaito lit up a bit at the praise, then turned serious.  “You should tell Hakuba _-san_ that, too,” he said.

“You think?” he asked.  “I know his dad; I’m sure he hears it plenty from him.”

“I think it would mean something different coming from you,” Kaito said.

_Well, it’s not like I wouldn’t mean it,_ Ginzou thought.   _Crackpot theorist or not, the kid solved half the riddles for the Task Force after he came and nearly caught KID a few times on top of that.  And Kaito’s good at people. If he says Hakuba should hear it from me, he probably should._

“When he calls us, then,” Ginzou said.

There was a satisfaction to Kaito’s smile that seemed a bit excessive given the situation, but Ginzou wasn’t about to call him on it.  It was good to see his kids smiling again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Dysfunctional families (specifically canon-typical stuff for the Nakamoris and fic-typical stuff for the Kurobas), Kaito-type emotional issues, outsider POV of PTSD and PTSD-related anxiety, very vague allusions to disordered eating.
> 
> Thank you guys again for your patience! Review replies are coming--I’ve been trying to catch up, but it’s slow going. As for updates, I’m hoping to get back on schedule, but since I’m traveling for the holidays it’s frankly unlikely. It’s likely to be another 3-week update gap; please bear with me.
> 
> Because some characters are longer-winded than others, I can’t be confident about chapter lengths at this point. My best “total chapter count” estimates fall between 50 and 60, probably closer to 50. It depends on how long a few scenes stretch and how in depth I decide to go with some elements. 
> 
> That said, I do have follow-up oneshots planned, though they will likely be posted less quickly than chapters are. At the very least, there’s a Sunset Mansion story happening at some point.
> 
> Thank you all, leave a review on your way out if you like, and please look forward to the next chapter!


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the copious delays this time! Combo of IRL commitments and stress held this one up, but I’m hoping you enjoy it!
> 
> My beta hasn’t seen this at all because she’s been crazy busy, but thoughts from conversations we had together months back went into this, so credit to miladyRanger regardless. Please find warnings in the end notes!

About a week out from his impromptu overseas trip, Eisuke’s life had settled back into something like normality.

The Kudou’s actor had moved all of his pots and pans around and used odd-smelling cleaning products in his house, but that was the extent of the actual disruption.  His clothes were laundered and put away in approximately the correct locations, his homework for the day had been completed.  He was able to pick up Smiley and Q from the veterinarian he’d had them boarding with.

Things weren’t quite the same, though.

For one thing, there was James, the kid who’d helped him get his doves boarded in the first place.  Eisuke had decided to try to get to know him a little better after that, and it turned out he was a pretty cool guy.  Moreover, he didn’t seem to mind Eisuke’s occasionally clumsy English, or his more general clumsiness, and he apparently thought Eisuke’s doves made him interesting.

To be fair, Eisuke kind of agreed with him there.  Saguru had trained them far past what was necessary for pets. Eisuke was pretty sure if he lost his fast food job he could probably find a street corner and make a brisk business busking, at least until someone got worried about the welfare of the doves and called the ASPCA or PETA.

Fortunately, however, his job had not fired him for the one-week absence, despite his suddenness.  Eisuke thought that either his manager had been feeling especially sympathetic, or just realized that she would have a hard time replacing him. He still burnt himself while running the fryers sometimes, but he was also the only person on any of his shifts who had no problem taking out the garbage or cleaning the bathroom.

Today, however, he didn’t have work.  So at the end of the school day, he ended up fumbling with his locker, rushing to get his bag packed and get to the bus on time.

“Eisuke!”

He startled and turned around, moving into a stance he half-remembered from Ran’s short-lived attempt at giving him informal lessons in Teitan High’s courtyard during the lunch period.

It was just James.  Clearly, paranoia was _contagious_.  Or maybe just a natural product of actually believing a Black Org assassin was after him and his friends directly for roughly a day.  It was hard to tell.

“Hey, James, I gotta go or I’ll be late for the bus!” Eisuke said.

“I was gonna offer you a ride,” James said.  “My car’s back from the shop.”

Eisuke hadn’t actually known James had a car.  “If you’re offering, sure,” he said, more out of curiosity than anything.

The car turned out to be a modest little sedan, pushing a decade old and in need of paint and body work. Still, it wasn’t as if Eisuke could afford a vehicle of any kind, so he wasn’t exactly in a position to judge.  

After he’d gathered his books, he followed James out of the high school, listening to him ramble about a recent soccer game. James glanced over at him, sheepish, after they’d gotten into the car.

“Sorry for rambling about soccer for all that time, I know it’s not your thing,” James said.

Eisuke shook his head.  “I’m not especially interested, but I don’t dislike it. I’ve just never learned much about it.  And I never played it much as a kid.”

“Is it less popular in Japan?” James asked as he started the car.

Eisuke didn’t quite manage to hold back a laugh.  “Oh, no, it’s really popular,” he said. “Almost as big as baseball.  I just never got into it.”

“Huh,” James said. “Baseball?  Really?”

“You would not believe how big a deal the, erm, _Koushien_?” Eisuke searched for the words.  “Uh, high school championships are.  I have friends who went once.  The tickets were expensive and the stadium was very full.”

“Just for high school?” James asked, then whistled as he pulled out of the parking lot.  “I really don’t get it, but that must be pretty cool for the kids playing.”

Eisuke made a noise of agreement.

“So, have you started the essay for next Friday?” James asked.

Eisuke groaned.  The two of them shared a social studies class, and the workload was starting to get troublesome.

“You’re already finished, then?” James asked drily.

“I have a lot of other homework,” Eisuke said weakly.

“Don’t we all,” James agreed.  “And the teachers don’t seem to get that, either.”

“I think they all think their homework is most important,” Eisuke said.  

“Yeah, except it’s not,” James said.  “Like, at least some of the electives are interesting, and this year’s AP English is better than last year’s, but still…” he paused.  “Sorry you’re still stuck in the boring class.”

“I’m stuck in the boring class because I wasn’t ready for advanced work when I transferred in,” Eisuke said.  “Now, maybe, but then?  I would have failed.”

“I can’t believe you think you might be ready for it now,” James said. “We didn’t talk much at the start of the year, but you never looked like you had any idea what was going on, and now you’re almost completely on top of things.  How smart _are_ you, anyway?”

Eisuke laughed.  “I’m not all that smart.”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short!”

“I’m not,” Eisuke said, shaking his head.  “My friends back in Japan--they’re geniuses.  I am not.  It’s easy to tell the difference.”

James looked doubtful, and seemed ready to defend his claims regarding Eisuke’s intelligence.  Eisuke was oddly touched. “Really?  How do you tell, exactly?”

“I am smart enough that it’s useful,” Eisuke said.  “They are smart enough that they make people scared and get into trouble.”

“That’s a weird distinction to make,” James said.

“It’s accurate and I stand by it,” Eisuke said.  “Don’t make friends with geniuses.  They will make you worry.”

“Y’know, the stereotype of geniuses is that they stay inside all the time and work on, I dunno, something obscure,” James said.

“Most of my friends are detectives,” Eisuke said.  “They don’t stay inside.  They go to crime scenes and act smarter than everyone there, which they probably are, but the police don’t always appreciate it, and the murderers almost never do.”

“So what I’m actually hearing here is not to be friends with geniuses who are also Sherlock Holmes wannabes,” James said.

Eisuke thought of the pictures of Hakuba’s Inverness that Kaito had shown them during the investigation, and snorted.

“What now?” James asked.

“Sherlock Holmes wannabes is...very accurate,” Eisuke managed, barely swallowing his impulse to giggle.

“There is _definitely_ a story there, and you should tell me it later,” James said. “But I think this is your stop.”

Eisuke glanced out of the window at his apartment building, then grinned at James. “Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem,” he said. “You have work this weekend?”

“I have work every weekend, but not all day,” Eisuke replied.

“Well, let me know if you have free time between your shifts and all of the homework we’ll probably have by then,” James said.  “Me and some of the guys from the soccer team are planning on seeing that one action movie that just came out.”

“I won’t know my schedule til tomorrow after school, but I’ll let you know,” Eisuke replied, getting out of the car.

“Cool!” James said.  “See you then!”

Eisuke got out of the car, and walked up to his apartment.  Kiyoshi’s--Saguru’s--old apartment already had a new occupant, a college student judging by his appearance, constant coffee intake, and tendency to keep odd hours. Eisuke still sometimes expected to see Kiyoshi leaning out of the door anyway.

Even so, his apartment didn’t feel as lonely as it had months ago.  Nothing substantive had really changed, but the emptiness of the place didn’t feel like it was mocking him anymore.  He had people now.  Maybe a lot of them were far away, but they’d miss him if he stopped talking to them.

And with that, it was easier to see past his own isolation, and the grief he’d been trying not to acknowledge, and to be impressed with what his empty little apartment represented.  He was making it alone, budgeting and working and managing his time, years ahead of many of his peers.

He was still clumsy and his occasional bits of absent-mindedness were embarrassing enough to make him think he’d spend the rest of his life being mistaken for a complete ditz, even when he wasn’t trying to make people underestimate him.  America would probably feel foreign to him for years to come, if it ever started feeling like home.  But he was getting better at English, and keeping himself afloat financially.  Things were better now, and there was no reason that they couldn’t continue getting better.

But maybe after he finished his math homework.

He sat down at the kitchen table, book spread out in front of him, settling into the familiar pattern of numbers that never needed even a second’s translation.  He was just finishing up the assigned problems when he heard his phone buzz.

It took him a second to realize it was his burner phone, the one from Hakuba’s case.  As soon as he did, he scrambled to pick up the call, not even bothering to check who was calling.  It was extremely early in the morning right now in Japan, long before anyone would be awake without a very good reason.  Something had to be wrong.

“Hello?” he all but asked.

“Good, I caught ya!” Hattori replied, voice oddly hushed.

“Hattori _-san_?” Eisuke asked.  “What happened?  Why are you calling so early?”

“Isn’t it afternoon there?” Hattori asked, confused.

“Well, yes, but is the sun even up in Osaka?” Eisuke asked.

“No, which is the only reason I’m gettin’ away wit’ this,” Hattori replied.  “Dad’s grounded me for the month.  No cases, no goin’ out to anythin’ that ain’t cram school or kendo, and no talkin’ on the phone to my friends, either.  Dad’s been keepin’ the thing in his desk whenever I’m not at school.”

“Then how are you--”

“He doesn’t know about the burner phone,” Hattori said.  “An’ if he finds out it’s trouble for everyone, since it’s pretty obvious the thing’s rigged up for makin’ shady phone calls.  I’ve been hiding it in one of my old model train boxes; might have ta move it just in case.  Worst case scenario, I give it ta Kazuha for the month an’ hope she doesn’t decide tryin’ ta hack the thing’s a smart move.”

“Then why are you calling me now?” Eisuke asked.  “Won’t he hear you?”

“Not likely,” Hattori said.  “I”m at the back end of the property, in the ornamental garden.  Probably gonna smell like chlorophyll after this.  Might need to shower so I don’t get caught...point is, unless someone comes out here to look at the sunrise before I’m done, I’m good.”

Now that Eisuke was listening for it, he could hear the rustle of ornamental grass blades scraping against one another and a whistling that might have been the wind passing through a copse of bamboo.

“Okay,” Eisuke said.  “So, did you call so I could tell everyone how long you’re grounded for?”

“Nah, Kazuha texted Kudou,” Hattori said.  “Should be in the group chat somewhere if you look for it.  If not I’ll have her yell at him to put it there so you know things.  Anyhow, that ain’t it.  And there’s no emergency, either.”

Eisuke could hear a thread of hesitance sneaking into his voice.

“When we were at Inspector Yamato’s, you mentioned needing to talk to me about something,” Eisuke ventured.  “Is that what this is?”

“Uh, yeah,” Hattori said quietly.  “So, um, when I kinda ran away from the breakfast table for a while, Inspector Morofushi pretty much cornered me and gave me an earful about, well, mostly about not drivin’ myself crazy trying to keep Kudou from goin’ crazy.”

Eisuke settled back into his chair, feeling as though he was on firm ground again.  “I talked to you about that too.  You said you’d be fine.”

“Kudou says that a lot, too,” Hattori said. “Mostly, he’s lying.  Think I musta caught the habit.”

“Don’t go copying our coping mechanisms,” Eisuke said.  “They’re generally not good ideas.”

“Well at least you know it, and even Kuroba _-han_ ’s startin’ ta figure that out,” Hattori said.  “Still not sure if Kudou’s figured out that he’s kinda screwed up now or not.” He sighed. “Look, I know he can mostly take care of himself, an’ that there’s a bunch of people besides me keepin’ an eye on him, but _f***_ if I ain’t worried about him and probably more than I should be.”

“Things have been stressful lately, and you’ve had to think about _Them_ as an active threat more than you’re used to,” Eisuke said. “That would be enough to make anyone a little more worried than usual.  Also, there was what happened at the gas station, when we were going to the inspector’s, and when we were chasing Hakuba, and also what Kuroba _-san_ said happened at the airport.”

Hattori groaned.  “ _That_ , yeah.  If I start thinkin’ about that I’ll never stop worryin’ about it.  He keeps sayin’ it was probably jus’ because he was sleep deprived an’ dehydrated an’ whatever but it’s not like we know fer sure!  He can’t even go to a real doctor; the only person who ‘treats’ him is the _nee-chan_ who made the stuff in the first place. I ain’t a scientist but I know makin’ chemicals and bein’ a medical doctor are two diff’rent things...if somethin’ serious was happenin’, would she even know?”

He broke off, breathing ragged and audible over the phone line.  Eisuke didn’t say anything in response.  He wasn’t sure what to say.  He hadn’t had any idea that Hattori was so worried, and he felt a bit guilty for not noticing sooner.

“No one but her an’ the professor know, in Tokyo,” Hattori continued.  “I guess I kinda get his reasons for not tellin’ Ran _-chan_ and her uncle, but, heck, if he gets sick, like, really sick, they won’t have any way of knowin’ it might be serious. He could just keel over in the middle of soccer practice or somethin’ and nobody’d even think they’d need ta check on him ‘til it was too late.”

Well, that Eisuke could speak to.

“You’re right, Hattori _-san_ , but so could you,” Eisuke said.  “No one knows how long they’ll live.  Even when doctors make those sorts of predictions, they’re not always correct.  I can’t blame you for worrying about Kudou _-san_ , but it’s pointless to obsess over the possibility that he might die.”

“Was that supposed to be comfortin’?” Hattori asked, sounding unimpressed.

Eisuke ran over his words mentally. “Was it not?”

“I was kinda hopin’ for somethin’ more along the lines of ‘he prob’ly won’t die,’ not, ya know, ‘we all die someday,’” Hattori said wryly.

“That’s not precisely what I meant,” Eisuke said, a bit more huffily than he meant  to.  “It’s more like...since we don’t know when we’re going to die, there’s no sense in worrying about it happening soon.”

“Okay, are _you_ okay?” Hattori asked.

“Yes?” Eisuke replied, confused.  “But if it makes you feel better, I don’t think you have any reason to believe he’s actually going to die as Conan during a soccer game.  That’s just stress and anxiety talking.”

“So he’ll die as Conan some other time,” Hattori muttered darkly.

“Don’t twist my words,” Eisuke said. “Look, he’s getting through this by believing he’s going to survive.  You should do the same.”

“He’s gettin’ through this with a collection of terrible coping mechanisms, a whole lotta lyin’, and too many close calls ta count,” Hattori pointed out.

“But also faith in a future after this is over,” Eisuke added.

“Which is gonna backfire hard if he doesn’t find a cure,” Hattori said.

“Don’t borrow trouble,” Eisuke scolded.  “You have good reason to be worried, and it’s not like I don’t get concerned about him too.  But he’s strong, and you _are_ helping.  He wouldn’t be nearly as okay as he is now if you weren’t.”

“Ya really think so?”

“You’ve been calling him by his name, for all this time,” Eisuke said. “He might yell at you about secrecy, but I think he’s grateful, deep down.”

“Maybe,” Hattori said.

“Well if nothing else, I’m grateful,” Eisuke said.  “He’s my friend, too, and he’s better off because you’ve been there for him.  So thank you.”

Hattori didn’t respond, not for a while.

“You okay over there?” Eisuke asked.

“Sure thought I was,” Hattori replied thickly. “Now I’m thinkin’ maybe not.”

“You’ve been one of very few people that Kudou _-san_ and all his secrets have had to lean on for a long time _,_ ” Eisuke said. “It’s all right to lean on the rest of us, too.”

“That’s wha’ ‘spector Morofushi said,” Hattori said.  His voice was still thick.  If Eisuke heard sniffling, he didn’t comment.  Sometimes, people cried at stress release; it wasn’t that unusual, not from Eisuke’s point of view.  But Hattori’s family was traditional enough for him to see it as embarrassing.

“So, what else have you been worrying about?” he prodded. “Better to talk about it now than have to sneak out this early again tomorrow.”

“Guess so,” Hattori said, a little more evenly.  “There’s a lot.  This might take a while.  That gonna be okay?”

Eisuke glanced at his homework for half a second, then dismissed that thought.  If he had to rush through his work a bit, his grades could take the consequences.  Talking to Hattori took priority.  

“Yeah, that’ll be fine,” he replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Child/seeming child endangerment, medical talk, some slightly morbid discussion, discussion and portrayal of anxiety and trauma, more devaluing of trauma by characters having it, hypothetical discussion of character death
> 
> Please note that, per Chapter 6, neither Shinichi nor Hattori know for certain if Akai knows Shinichi’s identity, so Hattori’s account of who in Tokyo knows about Shinichi is technically correct from his point of view.
> 
> In case it wasn’t obvious enough in the text, Eisuke’s initial attempt to cheer Hattori up backfired because of a bit of personal culture clash. Eisuke had leukemia as a kid, and even if he doesn’t remember so well, he also grew up with a family who was affected by the experience of having a very sick child. I will bet anyone money that Kir’s interesting coping mechanisms predate the Black Org, significantly. So Eisuke’s idea of what’s encouraging is maybe a little off-kilter, in the same way that Hattori’s idea of “how much murder most people discuss at dinnertime” is a bit off-kilter.
> 
> Thank you so much for all of your patience and support! I will catch up to reviews eventually, I promise.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [on balance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10265423) by [justjoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justjoy/pseuds/justjoy)




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